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THE BOY TAR; 

OR, 


A VOYAGE IN THE DARK. 


BY 

CAPTMN MAYNE KETD, 

AUTHOR OF “THE DESERT HOME,” “THE YOUNO VOYAGEURS,” 
“THE BUSH-BOYS,” ETC. 


WITH TWELVE ILLUSTRATIONS, BY CHARLES S. KEENE. 


A NEW EDITION, 


WITH A MEMOIR BY R. H. STODDARD. 


NEW YORK: 
THOMAS R. KNOX 


Successors to James Miller, 
813 Broadway. 
1885. 




t 


Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1884, by 
THOMAS n. KNOX & CO., 
in the office of the Librarian of Congiess, at Washington. 


New York, January Ist, 1869. 

Messrs. Fields, Osgood & Co.: — 

I accept the terms offered, and hereby concede to you the exclusive right of 
publication, in the United States, of all my juvenile Tales of Adventure, known V 
as Boys’ Novels. 

MAYNE REID. 




TROW’S 

f^RINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPAN/. 
NEW YORK. 


MEMOIR OF MAYNE R ETD . 


No one who has written books for the young during the 
present century ever had so large a circle of readers as 
Captain Mayne Reid, or ever was so well fitted by circum- 
stances to write the books by which he is chiefiy known. 
His life, which was an adventurous one, was ripened with 
the experience of two Continents, and his temperament, 
which was an ardent one, reflected the traits of two races. 
Irish by birth, he was American in his sympathies with 
the people of the New World, whose acquaintance he 
made at an early period, among whom he lived for years, 
and whose battles he helped to win. He was probably 
more familiar with the Southern and Western portion of 
the United States forty years ago than any native-born 
American of that time. A curious interest attaches to the 
life of Captain Reid, but it is not of the kind that casual 
biographers dwell upon. If he had written it himself it 
would have charmed thousands of readers, who can now 
merely imagine what it might have been from the glimpses 
of it which they obtain in his writings. It was not passed 
in the fierce light of publicity, but in that simple, silent 
obscurity which is the lot of most men, and is their hap- 
piness, if they only knew it. 

Briefly related, the life of Captain Reid was as follows : 
He was born in 1818, in the north of Ireland, the son of 
a Presbyterian clergyman, who was a type of the class 
which Goldsmith has "described so freshly in the “ Deserted 
Village,” and was highly thought of for his labors among 
the poor of his neighborhood. An earnest, reverent man, 
to whom his calling was indeed a sacred one, he designed 
his son Mayne for the ministry, in the hope, no doubt, 
that he would be his successor. But nature had some- 
thing to say about that, as well as his good father. He 
began to study for the ministry, but it was not long before 

1 


he was drawn in another direction. Always a great reader, 
his favorite books were descriptions of travel in foreign 
lands, particularly those which dealt with the scenery, 
the people, and the resources of America. The spell which 
these exercised over his imagination, joined to a love of 
adventure which was inherent in his temperament, and 
inherited, perhaps with his race, determined his career. 
At the age of twenty he closed his theological tomes, and 
girding up his loins with a stout heart he sailed from the 
shores of the Old World for the New. Following the 
spirit in his feet he landed at New Orleans, which was 
probably a more promising field for a 3'oung man of his 
talents than any Northern city, and was speedily engaged 
in business. The nature of this business is not stated, 
further than it was that of a trader ; but whatever it was 
it obliged this young Irishman to make long journeys into 
the interior of the country, which was almost a terra in- 
cognita. Sparsely settled, Avhere settled at all, it was still 
clothed in primeval verdure — here in the endless reach of 
savannas, there in the depth of pathless woods, and far 
away to the North and the West in those monotonous 
ocean-like levels of land for which the speech of England 
has no name — the Prairies. Its population was nomadic, 
not to say barbaric, consisting of tribes of Indians whose 
hunting grounds from time immemorial the region was ; 
hunters and trappers, Avho had turned their backs upon 
civilization for the free, wild life of nature ; men of 
doubtful or dangerous antecedents, who had found it con- 
venient to leave their country for their country’s good ; 
and scattered about hardy pioneer communities from East- 
ern States, advancing waves of the great sea of emigration 
which is still drawing the course of empire westward. 
Travelling in a country like this, and among people like 
these, Mayne Reid passed five years of his early manhood. 
He was at home wherever he went, and never more so 
than Avhen among the Indians of the Red River territory, 
with whom he spent several months, learning their lan- 
guage, studying their customs, and enjoying the wild and 
beautiful scenery of their camping grounds. Indian for 
the time, he lived in their lodges, rode with them, hunted 
with them, and night after night sat by their blazing 
camp-fires listening to the warlike stories of the braves 
and the quaint legends of the medicine men. There Avas 
that in the blood of Mayne Reid which fitted him to lead 
this life at this time, and whether he knew it or not it 

2 


educated his genius as no other life could have done. It 
familiarized him with a large extent of country in the 
South and West ; it introduced him to men and manners 
which existed nowhere else ; and it revealed to him the 
secrets of Indian life and cliaracter. 

There was another side, however, to Mayne Reid than 
that we have touched upon, and this, at the end of five 
years, drew him back to the average life of his kind. We 
find him next in Philadelphia, where he began to con- 
tribute stories and sketches of travel to the newspapers 
and magazines. Philadelphia was then the most literate 
city in the United States, the one in which a clever writer 
was at once encouraged and rewarded. Frank and warm- 
hearted, he made many friends there among journalists 
and authors. One of these friends was Edgar Allan Poe, 
whom he often visited at his home in Spring Garden, and 
concerning whom years after, when he was dead, he wrote 
with loving tenderness. 

The next episode in the career of Mayne Reid was not 
what one would expect from a man of letters, though it 
was just what might have been expected from a man of 
his temperament and antecedents. It grew out of the 
time, which was warlike, and it drove him into the army 
with which the United States speedily crushed the forces 
of the sister Republic — Mexico. He obtained a commis- 
sion, and served throughout the war with great bravery 
and distinction. This stormy episode ended with a severe 
wound, which he received in storming the heights of Cha- 
pultepec — a terrible battle which practically ended the 
war. 

A second episode of a similar character, but with a more 
fortunate conclusion, occurred about four years later. It 
grew out of another war, which, happily for us, was not on 
our borders, but in the heart of Europe, where the Hun- 
garian race had risen in insurrection against the hated power 
of Austria. Their desperate valor in the face of tremen- 
dous odds excited the sympathy of the American people, 
and fired the heart of Captain Mayne Reid, -who buckled 
on his sword once more, and sailed from New York with 
a body of volunteers to aid the Hungarians in their struggles 
for independence. They were too late, for hardly had 
they reached Paris before they learned that all was over ; 
Gorgey had surrendered at Arad, and Hungary was 
crushed. They were at once dismissed, and Captain Reid 
betook himself to London. 


3 


The life of the Mayne Reid in whom we are most im 
terested — Mayne Reid, the author — began at this time, 
when he was in his thirty-first year, and ended only on 
the day of his death, October 21, 1883. It covered one- 
third of a century, and was, when compared with that 
which had preceded it, uneventful, if not devoid of in- 
cident, There is not much that needs be told— not much, 
indeed, that can be told — in the life of a man of letters 
like Captain Mayne Reid. It is written in his books. 
Mayne Reid was one of the best known authors of his 
time — differing in this from many authors who are popu- 
lar without being known— and in the walk of fiction which 
he discovered for himself he is an acknowledged mas- 
ter. His reputation did not depend upon the admiration 
of the millions of young people who read his books, but 
upon the judgment of mature critics, to whom his delinea- 
tions of adventurous life were literature of no common 
order. His reputation as a story-teller was widely recog- 
nized on the Continent, where he was accepted as an 
authority in regard to the customs of the pioneers and the 
guerilla warfare of the Indian tribes, and was warmly 
praised for his freshness, his novelty, and his hardy origi- 
nality. The people of France and Germany delighted in 
this soldier- writer. “ There was not a woM in his books 
which a school-boy could not safely read aloud to his 
mother and sisters.” So says a late English critic, to which 
another adds, that if he has somewhat gone out of fashion 
of late years, the more’s the pity for the school-boy of the 
period. What Defoe is in Robinson Crusoe — realistic idyl 
of island solitude — that, in his romantic stories of wilder- 
ness life, is his great scholar, Captain Mayne Reid. 

R. H. Stoddaud. 


4 


CONTENTS. 


QDAP. Wkm 

I. MT BOT AUDIBNCB ....... 1 

II. SAVED BY SWANS 7 

III. THE UNDER-TOW ” 14 

* IT. THE DINGY.. 22 

T. THE BEEP 29 

TI. THE GULLS 86 

TII. SEARCH FOR A SEA-URCHIN 42 

Tin. LOSS OP THE DINGY 47 

IX. THE SIGNAL-STAFF 62 

/ 

X. CLIMBING A SMOOTH POLE ^ 58 

XI. THE RETURNING TIDE 64 

XII. HUGGING THE STAFF 69 

XIII. A STATE OP ** suspense” 76 

XIV. FOB PERU — TO-MORROW I 80 

XV. RUNNING AWAY 87 

XVI. THE *‘INCA” and HER CREW 94 

XVII. NOT BIG enough! 101 

XTIII. STEALING ABOARD 106 

XIX. hurrah! we are off! 113 

XX. SEA-SICK 118 

XXI. ENTOMBED ALIVE 124 

XXII. THIRST 129 

XXIII. A SWEET SOUND 188 

XXIV. TAPPING THE BUTT 188 

XXV. THE VENT-PEG 146 

XXVI. THE BISCUIT-BOX 160 

XXVII. A CASK OF BRANDI 166 

XXVIII. GOING ON ‘Orations” 164 


IV 


CONTENTS 


OHAP. PAei 

XXIX. OAUGINO THE 171 

XXX. MY MEASURING RULE 177 

XXXI. “quod BEAT FACIENDUM” 184 

XXXIl. THE HORROR OF DARKNESS 192 

XXXIII. THE STORM 197 

XXXIV. A NOVEL DRINKING-CUP 201 

XXXV. MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 206 

XXXVI. AN UGLY INTRUDER 210 

XXXVII. REFLECTIONS ON RATS 216 

SXXVIII. oh! for a STEEL TRAP ! 220 

XXXIX. A SWARM OF INTRUDERS 225 

XL. THE NORWAY BAT 229 

XLI. DREAM AND REALITY 234 

XLII. A SOUND SLEEP AT LAST 239 

XLIII. SEARCH AFTER ANOTHER BISCUIT-BOX 246 

XLIV. THE CRUMBS SECURED. . 250 

XLV. ANOTHER BITE 256 

XLVI. THE BALE OF LINEN 260 

XLVII. EXCELSIOR 265 

XLVIII. A TORRENT OF BRANDY 269 

XLIX. A NEW DANGER 274 

L. WHERE WAS MY KNIFE ? 279 

LI. A GRAND RAT-TRAP 284 

LII. A WHOLESALE TAKE 287 

Liii. ABOUT face! 291 

LIV. COltJECTURES 295 

LV. THE LUXURY OF STANDING ERECT. 800 

LVI. SHIP-SHAPE 805 

LVII. A VERY GRAND OBSTACLE 811 

fcVIII. TURNING THE PIANO 817 

LIX. THE BROKEN BLADE 823 

LX. A TRIANGULAR CHAMBER......... 829 

LXI. A milliner’s BOX 834 

LXII. HALF SUFFOCATED 838 

LXIIl. LIGHT AND LIFE 844 

LXIV. AN ASTONISHED CREW 848 

tXl THE DENOUEMENT 862 


THE BOY TAR 


CHAPTER L 

MT BOY AUDIENCE. 

My name is Philip Forster, and I am now an old 
man. 

I reside in a quiet little village, that stands upon the 
sea-shore, at the bottom of a very large bay — one of 
the largest in our island. 

I have styled it a quiet village, and so Jt really is, 
though it boasts of being a seaport. There is a little 
pier or jetty of chiselled granite, along-side which you 
may usually observe a pair of sloops, about the same 
number of schooners, and now and then a brig. Big 
ships cannot come in. But you may always note a 
large number of boats, either hauled up on the beach, 
or scudding about the bay, and from this, you may con- 
clude that the village derives its support rather from 
fishing than commerce. Such in reality is the fact. 

It is ray native village — the place in which I was 
bom, and where it is my intention to die. 

Notwithstanding this, my fellow-villagers know very 
little about me. They only know me as “ Captain Fors- 
ter,” or more specifically as The Captain,” — this 
1 


2 


THE BOY TAR. 


tobriquel being extended to me as the only person in the 
place entitled to it. 

Strictly speaking, 1 am not entitled to it. I have 
never been a captain of soldiers, nor have I held that 
rank in the navv J have only been the master of a 
merchant vessel, — in other words, a ’‘skipper.” But 
the villagers are courteous, and by their politeness I am 
•tyled “ Captain.” 

They know that I live in a pretty cottage about half 
a mile from the village, up shore ; they know that I live 
alone — for my old housekeeper can scarce be accounted 
as company; they see me each day pass through the 
olace with my telescope under my arm ; they note that 
1 walk out on the pier, and sweep the offing with my 
glass, and then, perhaps, return home again, or wander 
for an hour or two along the shore. Beyond these 
facts, my fellow-villagers know but little of myself, my 
habits, or my history. 

They have a belief among them that I have been 
a great traveller. They know that I have many books, 
and that I read much ; and they have got it into their 
heads that I am a wonderful scholar. 

I have been a great traveller, and am a great reader 
but the simple villagers are mistaken as to my scholar- 
ship. In my youth I was denied the advantages of a 
fine education, and what little literary knowledge I pos- 
sess has been acquired by self-instruction — hasty and in- 
terrupted — during the brief intervals of an active life. 

I have said that my fellow-villagers know very little 
about me, and you are no doubt surprised at this ; since 
among them I began my life, and among them I have 
declared my intention of ending it. Their ignorancfj of 


MY BOY AUDIENCE. 


b 


Djo is eaiily explained. I was but twelve years of age 
when I left home, and for forty years after I never set 
foot in my native place, nor eyes upon any of its inhab- 
itants. 

He must be a famous man who would be remem- 
bered after forty years’ absence ; and I, scarce a boy 
going forth, returned to find myself quite forgotten. 
Even my parents were scarce remembered. Both had 
died before I went away from home, and while I was 
only a merq lad. Besides, my father, who was a mar- 
iner by profession, was seldom or never at home, and I 
remember little else about him, than how I grieved 
when the news came that his ship was lost, and he v/ith 
most of his crew were drowned. Alas ! my mother 
did not long survive him ; and their death occurring 
such a long time ago, it is but natural that both should 
be forgotten among a people with whom they had but 
slight intercourse. Thus, then, is it explained Low I 
chance to be such a stranger in my native place. 

But you are not to suppose that I am lonely or with- 
out companions. Though I havo ceased to follow my 
profession of the sea, and returned home to spend the 
remainder of my days in a quiet, peaceful way, I am by 
no means of an unsocial disposition or morose habits. 
On the contrary, I am fond, as I have ever been, of so- 
cial intercourse ; and old man though I be, 1 take 
great delight in the society of young people, especially 
little boys. I can boast, too, that with all these in the 
village I am a favorite, I spend hours upon hours in 
helping them to fly their kites, and sail their tiny boats 
— for I remember how much delight I derived iroin 
^hese pastimes when Iwas myself a boy. 


4 


THE BOY TAR. 


As I take part in their sports, little do the sirap.e 
children think that the gentle old man who can 
amuse them and himself, has spent most of his life 
amidst scenes of wild adventure and deadly peril ; and 
yet such has been my history. 

There are those in the village, however, who are bet- 
ter acquainted with some chapters from the story of my 
life — passages of it which they have heard from my 
own lips, for I am never disinclined to relate to those 
who may be worthy of hearing it any intere^ng adven- 
ture through which I may have passed ; and even in 
our quiet village I have found an audience that merits 
the narrator. Schoolboys have been my listeners ; for 
there is a famous school near the village — an “ estab- 
lishment for young gentlemen *’ it is styled — and it is 
from this I draw my most attentive auditory. 

These boys and I used to meet in our rambles along 
the shore, and observing my weather-beaten, salt-water 
look, they fancied that I could tell them tales of wild 
scenes and strange incidents that I had encountered far 
over the sea. Our meetings were frequent — almost 
daily, — and soon a friendly acquaintance sprung up 
between us ; until, at their solicitation, I began to re- 
late to them an occasional adventure of my life. Often 
I may have been observed, seated upon the “ bent ” 
grass of the beach, encircled by a crowd of these well- 
dressed youths, whose parted lips and eager eyes beto- 
kened the interest they felt in my narrations. 

I am not ashamed to declare that I, too, felt pleasure 
in this sort of thing, like all old soldiers and sailors, who 
proverbially delight to “ fight their battles o’er again. 

These desultory recitals continued for some time, un* 


MY BOY AUDIENCE. 


5 


til one day, as I met my young friends in the ordinal*} 
way, only somewhat earlier than common, I saw that 
there was something unusual in the wind. They mus- 
tered stronger than was their wont, and I noticed that 
one of them — the biggest boy of the crowd — held a 
folded paper in his hand, upon which I could perceive 
there was writing. 

As I drew near, the paper was placed in my hands 
without a word being said ; and I saw by the super- 
scription that it was directed to myself. 

I opened the paper, and soon perceived the nature of 
its contents. It was a “ petition ” signed by all the boys 
present. It ran thus : — 

“ Dear Captain, — We have been allowed holiday 
for the whole of to-day ; and we know of no way in 
which we could spend it with so much of pleasure and 
profit, as by listening to you. We have therefore taken 
the liberty of asking you to indulge us, by the narration 
of some remarkable incident that has happened to you. 
A stirring passage we should prefer, for we know that 
many of these have befallen you during your adventu- 
rous life ; but choose whatever one it may be most pleas- 
ant for you to relate ; and we shall promise to listen at- 
tentively, since one and all of us know that it will be an 
easy thing to keep that promise. And now, dear cap- 
tain, grant us the favor we ask, and your petitioners 
shall be forever grateful.” 

Such a polite request could not be refused ; and with- 
out hesitation I declared my intention to gratify my 
voung friends with a chapter from my life. The chap- 


6 


THE BOY TAR. 


ter chosen was one which I thought would be most in 
teresting to them — as it gave some account of my own 
boy-life, and of my first voyage to sea — which, from 
the odd circumstances under which it was made, I have 
termed a “ Voyage in the Dark.” 

Seating myself upon the pebbly beach, in full view 
of the bright sea, and placing my auditory around me^ 
I began. 


CHAPTER n. 


SAVED BY SWANS. 

Fbom my earliest days, I was fond of the water — 
Instinctively so. Had I been born a duck, or a water- 
dog, I could not have liked it better. My father had 
been a seaman, and his father before him, and grand- 
father too ; so that perhaps I inherited the instinct. 
Whether or not, my aquatic tastes were as strong as if 
the water had been my natural element ; and I have 
been told — though I do not myself remember it, that 
when still but a mere child, it was with difficulty I 
could be kept out of puddles and ponds. In fact, the 
first adventure of my life occurred in a pond, and that 
I remember well. Though it was neither so strange 
nor so terrible as many adventures that befell me after- 
wards, still it was rather a curious one, and I shall give 
you it, as illustrating the early ‘penchant I had for 
aquatic pursuits. I was but a very little boy at the 
time, and the odd incident occurring, as it were, at the 
very threshold of my life, seemed to foreshadow the 
destiny of my future career — that I was to experience, 
as in reality I have experienced, many vicissitudes and 
Adventures. 

I have said, I was but a very little boy at the time — » 


8 


THE BOY TAR. 


just big enough to go about, and just of that age whei 
boys take to sailing paper boats. I knt.w how to con 
struci these out of the leaf of an old book, or a piec*- 
of a newspaper ; — and often had I sent them on voy 
ages across the duck-pond, which was my ocean. I may 
say, I had got a step beyond the mere paper boats ; — 
with my six months’ stock of pocket-money, which I 
had saved for the purpose, i had succeeded in purchas- 
ing a full-i-igged sloop, from an old fisherman, who had 
“ built” her during his hours of leisure. She was only 
six inches in length of keel, by less than three in breadth 
01 beam, and her tonnage, if registered — which it nev- 
er was — would have been about half a pound avoir- 
dupois. A small craft you will style her ; but at that 
time, in my eyes, she was as grand as a three-decker. 

I esteemed her too large for the duck-pond, and re- 
solved to go in search of a piece of water where she 
should have more room to exhibit her sailing qualities. 

This I soon found in the shape of a very large pond 
— or lake, I should rather call it — where the water 
was clear as crystal, and where there was usually a nice 
light breeze playing over the surface — just strong 
enough to fill the sails, and drive my little sloop along 
like a bird on the wing — so that she often crossed the 
pond before I myself could get round to the other side 
to receive her into my hands again. 

Many a race have I had with my little sloop, in which 
sometimes she, and sometimes I, proved victorious, 
according as the wind was favorable or unfavorable to 
her course. 

Now this pretty pond — by the shores of which I 
ised to delight myself, and where I spent manv f the 


SAVED BY SWANS. 


S 


happiest hours of my boyhood — was not public prop 
erty. It was situated in a gentleman’s park, that ex 
tended backward from the end of the village, and tho 
pond of course belonged to the owner of the park. He 
was a kind and liberal gentleman, however, and permit- 
ted the villagers to go through his grounds whenever 
hey pleased, and did not object to the boys sailing their 
boats upon the ornamental water, or even playing crick- 
et in one of his fields, provided they did not act rudely 
or destroy any of the shrubs or plants that grew along 
the walks. It was very kind and good of him to allow 
this freedom ; and we, the boys of the village, were 
sensible of this, and I think on the whole we behaved 
as if we were so ; for I never heard of any damage 
being done that was deemed worthy of complaint. 
The pai'k and pond are tliere still — you all know 
them ? — but the kind gentleman I speak of has long 
since-left this world ; for he was an old gentleman then, 
and that is sixty years ago. 

Upon the little lake, there was at that time a flock of 
swans — six, if I remember ai'ight — besides other wa 
ter-fowl of rare kinds. The boys took great delight in 
feeding these pretty creatui‘es ; and it was a common 
thing for one or other of us to bring pieces of bread 
and chuck them to the water-fowl. For my part, I was 
very fond of this little piece of extravagance ; and, 
wlienever I had the opportunity, I came to the lake 
with my pockets crammed. 

The fowds, and especially the swans, under this treat- 
ment had grown so tame, that they would eat out of 
our hands, without exhibiting the slightest fear of as. 

There w^as a particular way of giving them their 


10 


THE BOY TAR. 


food, in which we used to take great delight. On one 
side of the fake, there was a bank that rose three feet oi 
so above the surface of the water. Here the pond was 
deep, and there was no chance for either the swans, or 
any other creature, to land at this place without taking 
to wing. The bank was steep, without either shelf or 
stair to ascend by. In fact, it rather hung over, than 
shelved. 

At this point we used to meet the swans, that were 
always ready to come when they saw us ; and then, 
placing the piece of bread in the split end of a rod, and 
holding it out high above them, we enjoyed the spectacle 
of the swans stretching up their long necks, and occa- 
sionally leaping upward out of the water to snatch it, 
iust as dogs would have done. All this, you will per- 
ceive, was rare fun for boys. 

Now I come to the promised adventure. 

One day, I had proceeded to the pond, carrying my 
sloop with me as usual. It was at an early hour ; and 
on reaching the ground, I found that none of my com- 
panions had yet arrived. I launched my sloop, how- 
ever ; and then walked around the shore to meet her 
on the opposite side. 

There was scarcely a breath of wind, and the sloop 
sailed slowly. I was therefore in no hurry, but saun- 
tered along at my leisure. On leaving home I had not 
forgotten the swans, which were my great pets : such 
favorites, indeed, that I very much fear they induced 
me on more than one occasion to commit small thefts 
for them ; since the slices of bread with which my 
pockets were crammed, had been rather surreptitiously 
ol tained from the domestic larder. 


SAVED Bf SWANS. 


11 


Be this as it may, I had brought their allowance along 
with me ; and on reaching the high bank, I halted to 
give it them. _ 

All six, who knew me well, with proud arching necks 
and wings slightly elevated, came gliding rapidly across 
tlie pond to meet me ; and in a few seconds arrived un- 
iler the bank, where they moved about with upstretched 
beaks, and eyes eagerly scanning my movements. 
They knew that I had called them thither to be kind to 
them. r 

Having procured a slight sapling, and split it at the 
end, I placed a piece of bread in the notch, and pro 
ceeded to amuse myself with the manoeuvres of the birds. 

One piece after another was snatched away from the 
stick, and I had nearly emptied my pockets, when all at 
once the sod upon w’hich I was standing gave way un- 
der me, and I fell 'plump into the water. 

I fell with a plunge like a large stone, and as I could ' 
not swim a stroke, I should have gone to the bottom 
like one, but it so happened that I came down right in 
the middle of the swans, who were no doubt taken as 
much by surprise as myself. 

Now it was not through any peculiar presence of 
mind on my part, but simply from the instinct of self- 
preservation, which is common to every living creature, 
that I made an effort to save myself. This I did by 
throwing out my hands, and endeavoring to seize hold 
of something, just as drowning men will catch even at 
straw'?. But I caught something better than a straw, 
for I chanced to seize upon the leg of one of the big- 
gest and strongest of the swans, and to that I held on, 
as if my life depended on my lot letting it go. 


12 


THE BOY TAR. 


At the first plunge my eyes and ears had been filled 
with water, and I was hardly sensible of what I was do- 
ing. I could hear a vast splashing and spluttering as 
the birds scattered away in affright, but in another sec- 
ond of time I had consciousness enough to perceive that 
I had got hold of the leg of the swan, and was being 
towed rapidly through the water. I had sense enough 
to retain my hold ; and in less time than I have taken 
to tell it, I was dragged better than half across the 
pond — which, after all, was but a short distance. The 
swan made no attempt to swim, but rather fluttered 
along the surface, using his wings, and perhaps the leg 
that was still free, to propel himself forward. Terror, 
no doubt, had doubled both his strength and his ener- 
gies, else he could never have towed such a weight, big 
and strong as he was. How long the affair would have 
lasted, it is hard to say. Not very long, however. 
The bird might have kept above water a good while, 
but I could not have held out much longer. I was 
every moment being ducked under, the water at each 
immersion getting into my mouth and nostrils. I was 
fast losing consciousness, and would soon have been 
forced to let go. 

Just at this crisis, to my great joy, I felt something 
touch me underneath; some rough object had struck 
against my knees. It was the stones and gravel at the 
bottom of the lake ; and I perceived that I w’as now in 
water of no great depth. The bird, in struggling to 
escape, had passed over the portion of the lake where 
it w^as deep and dangerous, and was now close to the 
edge, w^here it shoaled. 

I did not hesitate a moment ; I was only too glad to 



9 




















I 


I 




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>. .\ A A.i 


« 


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» I 

1^ L 






t 4 
f 

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*.* 


4 



SAVED BY SWANS. 


la 

put an end to tlie towing match, and therefore released 
my grasp from the leg of the swan. The bird, thus 
lightened, immediately took to wing; and, screeching 
like a wild fowl, rose high into the air. 

For myself, I found bottom at once, and after some 
staggering, and a good deal of sneezing and hiccough* 
ing, I regained my feet ; and then, wading out, stood 
once more safe upon terra firma. 

I was so badly terrified by the incident that I never 
thought of looking after my sloop. Leaving her to fin- 
ish her voyage as she might, I ran away as fast as my 
legs would carry me, and never made halt or pause till 
I had reached home, and stood with dripping garraente 
in front of the fire. 


CHAPTER in. 


THE “ UNDER-TOW.” 

You will fancy that the lesson I had thus received 
should have been a warning to me to keep away from 
the water. Not so, however. So far as that went, the 
ducking did me no good though it proved beneficial in 
other respects. It taught me the danger of getting into 
water over one’s depth — which I had before then but 
little appreciated ; and young as I was, I perceived the 
advantage of being able to swim. The peril from 
w'hich I had so narrowly escaped, stimulated me to form 
a resolve, and that was — to learn the art of swimming. 

I was encouraged in this resolution by my mother, 
as also by a letter received from my father, who was 
then abroad; and in which he gave directions that I 
should be taught to swim in the best manner. It was 
just what I desired, and with the intention of becoming 
a firstrate swimmer, I went about it in right earnest 
Once and sometimes twice each day during the warm 
weather — that is, after school was out — I betook my- 
self to the water, where I might be seen splashing and 
spluttering about like a young porpoise. Some bigger 
boys, who had already learnt to swim, gave me a lesson 
or two ; and I soon experienced the delightful sensa* 


THE “ UNDER-TOW.” 


Hon of being able to float upon my back without assist- 
ance from any one. I well remember how proud I 
felt on the occasion when I first accomplished this nata- 
torial feat. 

And here, young reader, let me advise you by all 
means to imitate my example, and learn to swim. You 
know not how soon you may stand in need of a knowl- 
edge of this useful art ; how soon you may be called 
upon to practise it perforce. You know not but that 
♦ooner or later it may be the means of saving your life. 

At the present time, the chances of death by drown- 
ing are multiplied far beyond anything of the kind in 
past ages. Almost everybody now travels across seas, 
oceans, and upon Jarge rivers, and the number of peo- 
ple who annually risk their lives on the water, voyaging 
on business, pleasure, or in the way of emigration, is 
scarce credible. Of these, a proportion — in stormy 
years a large one — perish by drowning. 

I do not mean to assert that a swimmer — even the 
best — if cast away at a great distance from shore, — 
in mid-Atlantic, for instance, or even in the middle of 
^he English Channel — would have any prospect of 
Bwimming to land. That, of course, would be imprac- 
ticable. But there are often other chances of life being 
saved, besides that of getting to land. A boat may be 
leached, a spar, an empty hencoop or barrel ; and there 
are many instances on record of lives having been sav- 
ed by such slight means. Another vessel, too, may be 
in sight, may hasten to the scene of the disaster, and the 
strong swimmer may be still afloat upon her arrival 
while those who could not swim, must of course have 
gone to the bottom 


16 


THE BOY TAR. 


But you must know that it is neither in the middle 
of the Atlantic, nor of any great ocean, that most ves* 
feels are wrecked and hves are lost. Some are, it is true 
— when a storm rages with extreme fury, “ blowing 
great guns,” as the seamen phrase it, and blowing a 
ship almost to atoms. These events, however, are ex- 
tremely rare, and bear but a small proportion to the num- 
ber of wrecks that take place within sight of the shore, 
and frequently upon the beach itself. It is in “casta- 
ways ” of this kind, that the greatest number of lives arc- 
sacrificed, under circumstances when, by a knowledge 
of the art of swimming, many of them might have been 
saved. Not a year passes, but there is a record of 
hundreds of individuals who have been drowned within 
cable’s length of the shore — ships full of emigrants, 
soldiers, and sailors, have sunk with all on board, leav- 
ing only a few good swimmers survivors of the wreck ! 
Similar “ accidents ” occur in rivers, scarce two hundred 
yards in width ; and you yourselves are acquainted with 
the annual drownings, even in the narrow and icy Ser- 
pentine ! 

With these facts before the eyes of the world, you 
will wonder that the world does not take warning, and 
at once learn to swim. 

It may be wondered, too, that governments do not 
compel the youth to learn this simple accomplishment ; 
but that indeed is hardly to be wondered at, since the 
business' of governments in all ages has been rather to 
tax than to teach their people. 

It seems to me, however, that it would be a very easy 
thing for governments to compel all those who trave. 
by ships, to provide themselves with a life-preserver 


17 


THE »• UNDER-TOW.” 

By this cheap and simple contrivance, I am prepared 
to show that thousands of lives would be annually sav- 
ed ; and no one would grumble at either the cost or iii- 
oonv^ience of carrying so useful an article. 

Governments take special care to tax travellers for a 
pi ice of w'orthless paper, called a passport. Once you 
have paid for this, it signifies not to them how soon you 
ani your passport go to the bottom of the sea. 

Well, young reader, whether it be the desire of your 
government or not, take a hint from me, and make your- 
self a good swimmer. Set about it at once — that is if 
the weather be warm enough — and don’t miss a day 
while it continues so. Be a swimmer before you be- 
come a man ; for when you have reached manhood, you 
wdll most probably find neither time, opportunity, nor 
inclination to practice ; besides, you may run many risks 
of being drowned long before there is hair upon your lip. 

For myself, I have had a variety of hairbreadth es- 
capes from drowming. The very element which I loved 
so dearly, seemed the most desirous of making a victim 
of me ; and I should have deemed it ungrateful, had I 
not known that the wild billow's were unreasoning, irre- 
sponsible creatures ; and I had too recklessly laid “ my 
hand upon their mane.” 

It was but a few' w'eeks after my ducking in the pond, 
and I had already taken several swimming lessons, when 
I came very near making my last essay at this aquatic 
exercise. 

It was not in the pond that the incident occurred — 
for that, being a piece of ornamental w'ater, and private 
property, as I have told you, was not permitted to be 
used as a bathing place. 


18 


THE BOY TAR. 


But the pejple of a sea-shore tonn need no lake in 
which to disport themselves. The gi'eat salt sea gives 
them a free bath, and our village had its bathing beach 
in common with others of its kind. Of course, then, 
my swimming lessons were taken in salt water. 

The beach which was habitually used by the villagers, 
had not the best name as a bathing place. It was pret- 
ty enough, with yellow sand, white shells, and pebbles 
but there was what is termed an “ under-tow ” — in one 
particular place stronger than elsewhere ; and at times 
it was a dangerous matter to get within the influence of 
this “ under-tow,” unless the person so exposing himself 
was a good and strong swimmer. 

There was a legend among the villagers, that some 
one had been drowned by this current ; but that was an 
occurrence of long ago, and had almost ceased to be 
talked about. There were also one or two more mod- 
ern instances of bathers being carried out to sea, but 
^ finally saved by boats sent after them. ' ' ^ 

I remember at that time having been struck with a 
fact relating to these mishaps ; and this "was, that the 
older inhabitants of the village, and they who were of 
most eonsequence in the place, never liked to talk about 
them ; either shrugging their shoulders and remain- 
ing silent, or giving the legends a flat contradiction. 
Some of them even went so far as to deny the existence 
of an “ under-tow,” while others eontented themselves 
by asserting that it was perfectly harmless. I always 
noticed, however, that parents would not permit their 
boys to bathe near the place where the dangerous cur- 
rent was represented to exist. ^ 

I never" kne\^' the reason why the villagers were si 


THE ^ UNDER-TOW.” 


U 


nn willing to acknow'ledge the “ under-tow/^ and the tiutb 
of the stories connected therewith. That is, I knew it 
not until long, long afterwards — until I came home 
again after my forty years of adventure: On my re- 
turn I found the same silence and shrugging of the 
shoulders, although by a generation of villagers alto- 
gether ditferent from those I had left behind. And this, 
too, notwithstanding that several accidents had occurred 
in my absence, to prove that tlie “ under-tow” did actual 
ly exist, and that it was actually dangerous. 

But I was then older and better able to reason about 
men’s motives, and I soon fathomed the mystery. It 
was this : our village is, as you know, what is called a 
“ watering-place,” and derived some support from vis- 
itors who came to it to spend a few weeks of their sum- 
mer. It is a watering-place upon a small scale, it is 
true, but were there to be much talk about the “ un- 
der-tow,” or too much credence given to legends of peo- 
ple'^who have been drowned by it, it would become a 
watering-place on a still smaller scale, or might cease 
to-be one altogether. Therefore the less you say of the 
“ under-tpw,” the better for your own popularity among 
the wise men of the village. 

Now, my young friends, I have been making a long 
story about what you will deem a very ordinary advent- 
ure, after all. It is simply to end by my telling you that 
I was drowned by the “ under-tow ” — actually drowned ! 

You will say that I could not have been drowned dead 
— though that is a doubtful point, for, as far as my feel- 
ings were concerned, I am certain I should not have 
known it had I never been restored to life again. No, 
r should not have felt pain had I been cut into a hun- 


20 ' 


THE BOY TAR. 

dred pieces while 1 was in that state, nor would I evei 
have come to life again had it not been for somebody 
else. That somebody else was a fine young watermai. 
of our village, by name Harry Blew, and to him 
was I indebted for my second life. 

The incident, as I have said, was of the ordinary 
kind, but I relate it to show how I became acquainted 
with Harry Blew, whose acquaintance and examplf 
had an important influence on my after-life. 

I had gone to the beach to bathe as usual, at a poim 
new to me, and where I had not seen many people 
bathe before. It chanced to be one of the worst placet 
for this under-tow,” and shortly after entering the wa 
ter I got into its gripe, and was drawn outward into the 
open sea, far beyond the distance I could have swuni 
back. As much from terror, that paralyzed my 
strength, as aught else, — for I was aware of my dan 
ger, — I could swim no further, but sank to the botton 
like a piece of lead ! 

I did not know that I had ever come up again. J 
knew nothing at all about what happened after. I onlj 
remembered seeing a boat near me, and a man in it 
and then all was dark, and I heard a loud rumbling likt 
thunder in my ears, and my consciousness went out lik€ 
the snuffing of a candle. 

It returned again, thanks to young Harry Blew, and 
when I knew that I was still alive, I reopened my 
eyes, and saw a man kneeling above me, rubbing me 
all over with his hands, and pushing my belly up under 
my ribs, and blowing into my mouth, and tickling my 
■ nostrils with a feather, and performing a great variety 
of such antic manoeuvres upon me. 


THE “ UNDER-TOW.” 


21 


That was Harry Blew bringing me to life again ; and 
as soon as he had partially succeeded, he lifted me up 
in his arms and carried me home to my mother, who 
was nearly distracted on receiving me ; and then wine 
was poured down my throat, and hot bricks and bottles 
were put to my feet, and my nose anointed with harts- 
horn, and my body rolled in warm blankets, and many 
other appliances were administered, and many remedies 
had I to take, before my friends considered the danger 
to be over, and that I should be likely to live. 

But it was all over at length, and in twenty hours* 
time I was on my feet again, and as brisk and well as 
ever. 

I had now had my wwming of the water, if that could 
have been of any s'rrrrr. But it was not, as the se- 
quel will show. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE DINGT. 

No — the warning was all in vain. Even the nar 
row escape I had had, did not cure me of my fondness 
for being on the water, but rather had an opposite effect. 

The acquaintance thus singularly formed between ti^e 
young waterman and myself, soon ripened into a strong 
- feeling of friendship. His name, as I have said, was 
Harry Blew, and — if I may be allowed to play upon 
the word — he was “ true blue,” for he was gifted with 
a heart as kind as it was brave. I need hardly add 
that I grew vastly fond of him, and he appeared to re- 
ciprocate the feeling, for he acted towards me from 
that time forward as if I had saveff his life, instead of 
its being the other way. He took great pains to make 
me perfect in swimming; and he also taught me the 
use of the oar ; so that in a short time I was able to 
row in a very creditable manner, and far better than 
any boy of my age or size. I even attained to such pro 
ficiency that I could manage a pair of oars, and pull 
about without any assistance from my instructor. This 
I esteemed a great feat, and I was not a little proud 
when I was intrusted (as was frequently the case) to take 
the young waterman’s boat from the little cove wheie he 


THE DINGY. 


23 


fcept her, to some point on the beach where he might be 
waiting to take up a fare. Perhaps in passing an 
anchored sloop, or near the beach, where some people 
might be sauntering, I may have heard remarks made 
in a sneering tone, such as, ^ You are a queer chap to 
be handlin’ a pair o’ oars ! ” or “ Oh, jimminy ! Look 
at that millikin pin, boys!” And then I could hear 
other jeers mingled with shouts of laughter. But this 
did not mortify me in the least. On the contrary, I 
felt proud to show them that, small as I was, I could 
propel my craft in the right direction, and perhaps as 
rapidly as many of them 'that were even twice my size. 

After a time I heard no more of these taunts, unless 
now and then fiom some stranger to the place. The 
people of our village soon learned how well I could 
manage a boat ; and small as I was, they held me 
in respect — at all events, they no longer jeered at 
me. Often they would call me the ^ littl^ waferman,” 
or the “ young sailor,” or still oftener was I known by 
the name of the “ Boy Tar.” It was my father’s de- 
sign that, like himself, I should follow the sea as a 
calling ; and had he lived to make another voyage, it 
was his intention to have taken me away with him. 
I was encouraged, therefore, in these ideas ; and more- 
over, my mother always dressed me in sailor costume 
of the most approved pattern — blue cloth jacket and 
trousers, with black silk Iiandkerchief and folding col- 
lar. Of all this I was very proud, and it was my 
costume as much as aught else, that led to my receiv- 
ing the sohriquei of the “ Boy Tar.” This title 
pleased me best of any, for it was Harry Blew that 
first bestowed it on me, and from the day that he saved 


24 


THE BOY TAR. 


me from drowning, I regarded him as my true friend 
and protector. 

He was at this time rather a prosperous young fel- 
low, himself owner of his boat — nay, better still, he 
bad two boats. One was much bigger than the other 
— the yawl, as he styled her — and this was the one 
he mostly used, especially when three or four person.^ 
wanted a sail. The lesser boat was a little “ dingy 
he had just purchased, and which for convenience he ' 
took with him when his fare was only a single passen- 
ger, since the labor of rowing it was much less. In 
the watering season, however, the larger boat was more 
often required — since parties of pleasure were out 
every day in it, and at such times the little one lay 
idle at its moorings. I was then welcome to the use 
of it for my own pleasure, and could take it when I 
liked, either by myself or with a companion, if I chose 
to have* oneT It became my custom, therefore, after 
school hours, or indeed whenever I had any spare time, 
to be off to the dingy, and rowing it all about the har 
bor. I was rarely without a companion — for more 
than one of my school-fellows relished this sort of 
thing — and many of them even envied me the fine 
privilege I had in being almost absolute master of a 
boat. Of course, whenever I desired company, I had 
no need to go alone ; it was not often that I was so. 
Some one or other of the boys was my companion on 
every excursion that was made, and these were almost 
daily — at least, every day on which the weather was 
calm enough to allow of it. With such a small cockle- 
shell of a boat, we dared not go out when it was not 
calm ; and with regard to this, I had been duly cau- 


THE DINGY. 


25 


tioned by Henry Blew himself. Our excursions only 
extended to a short distance from the village, usually 
up the bay, though sometimes down, but I always took 
care to keep near the shore, and never ventured far 
out, lest the little boat might be caught in a squall and 
get me into danger. 

As time passed on, however, I grew less timid, and 
began to feel more at home on the wide water. Then 
I extended my excursions sometimes as far as a mile 
from the shore, and thought nothing of it. My friend, 
the waterman, seeing me on one of these far voyages, 
repeated his former caution, but it might have had a 
more salutary effect had I not overheard him, the mo- 
ment after, observe to one of his companions : — - 

“ Wonderful boy ! ain’t he. Bob ? Come of the true 
stock — make the right sort of a ^ilor, if ever he 
grows big enough.” 

This remark led me to think that I had not much 
displeased my patron in what I had done ; and there* * 
fore his caution “ to keep close in-shore ” produced very 
little effect on me. 

It was not a long time before I quite disobeyed it ; 
and the disobedience, as you shall hear, very nigh cost 
me my life. 

But first let me tell of a circumstance that occurred 
at this date, and which quite changed the current of my 
existence. It was a great misfortune that befell me — 
the loss of both my parents. 

I have said that my father was a seaman by profes- 
sion. He was the master of a ship that traded, I be- 
lieve, to the colonies of America, and so little was he 
at home from the time I was old enough to remember 


26 


THE BOY TAR. 


tha^. I scarce re-collected him more than just what he 
was like — and that w'as a fine, manly, sailor-looking 
man, with a face bronzed by the weather until it was 
nearly of a copper color, but for all that a handsome 
and cheerful face. 

My mother must have thought so too, for from the 
ime that new^s arrived that his ship was wrecked, and 
he himself drowned, she was never herself again. She 
seemed to pine away, as if she did not wish to live 
longer, but w^as desirous of joining him in the other 
world. If such w^ere her wishes, it was not long be- 
fore they were gratified ; for, in a very few Aveeks after 
the terrible news had reached us, my poor mother was 
carried to her grave. 

These were the circumstances that changed the cur- 
rent of my existence. Even my mode of life was no 
longer the same. I was now' an orphan, without means 
and without a home ; for, as my parents had been wnth- 
out any fortune, and subsisted entirely upon the hard 
earnings of my father’s trade, no provision had been 
made against such an unexpected event as my brave 
father’s death, and even my mother had been left al- 
most penniless. Perhaps it was a merciful Providence 
that called her away from a w'orld that to her was no 
longer a place of enjoyment ; and although I long la- 
mented my dear kind mother, in after years I could 
not help thinking that it was her happier destiny that 
at that time she had been summoned aw'ay. Long 
long years it was before I could have done anything 
to aid or protect her — during the chill cold wdnter of 
poverty that must have been her portion. 

To me the events brought consequences of the most 




THE DINGY. 


27 


ftOfious kind. 1 found a home, it is true, but a very 
different one from that to which I had all along been 
used. I was taken to live with an uncle, who, although 
my mother’s own brother, had none of her tender or 
affectionate feelings ; on the contrary, he was a man of 
morose disposition and coarse habits, and I soon found 
that I was but little more cared for than any one of his 
servants, for I was treated just as they. 

My school-days were at an end, for I was, no moie 
sent to school from the day I entered my uncle’s house. 
Not that I was allowed to go about idle. My uncle 
was a farmer, and soon found a use for me ; so that 
between running after pigs and cattle, and driving the 
plough-horses, or tending upon a flock of sheep, or 
feeding calves, or a hundred other little matters, I was 
kept busy from sunrise till sunset of every day in the 
week. Upon Sundays only was I permitted to rest — 
not that my uncle was at all religious, but that it was a 
custom of the place that there should be no work done 
on the Sabbath. This custom was strictly observed by 
everybody belonging to the village, and my uncle was 
compelled to follow the common rule — otherwise, I 
believe, he would have made Sunday a day of work as 
well as any other. 

My uncle not having any care for religion, I was not 
sent to church, but was left free to wander idle about 
the fields, or indeed wherever I chose lO go. You may 
be sure I did not choose to stop among the hedges and 
ditches. The blue sea that lay beyond, had far more 
attractions for me than bifdsnesting, or any other rural 
amusement ; and the moment I could escape from the 
house I was off to my favorite element, . either tc ac 


V 


28 THE BOY TAK. 

company my friend Harry Blew in some of his boating 
trips, or to get possession of the “ dingy,” and have a 
row on my own account. Thus, then, were my Sun- 
days passed. 

While my mother was living, I had been taught to 
regard this idle way of spending Sunday as sinful; 
but the example which I had before me in my uncle^s 
life, soon led me to form other ideas upon this matter, 
and I came to regard the Lord’s Day as only differing 
from any other of the week in its being by far the 
pleasantest. 

One Sunday, however, proved anything but pleasant. 
So far from it, that it came very near being the most 
painful as well as the last day of my life — which was 
once more imperilled by my favorite element — the 

water. 


CHAPTER V. 


THE REEF. 

It was Sunday morning, and as fine a one as 1 can 
remember. It was in the month of May, and not 
likely to be otherwise than fine. The sun was shining 
brightly, and the birds filled the air with joyous music. 
The thrush and blackbird mingled their strong vigorous 
voices with the mellowed trilling of the skylark, and 
over the fields could be heard almost continuously the 
call of the cuckoo — now here, now there, as the active 
creature plied her restless wing from one hedge-tree to 
another. There was a strong sweet perfume in the air 
like the scent of almonds, for the white thorn was now 
expanding its umbels of aromatic flowers, and there 
was just enough breeze to bear their fragrance through- 
out the whole atmosphere. The country, with its green 
hedge-rows, its broad fields of young corn, its meadows 
enamelled with the golden ranunculus and the purple 
spring orchis both in full flower ; the country, with its 
birds^ nests and bird music, would have been attractive 
to most boys of my age, but far more fascination for me 
was there in that which lay beyond — that calm, glassy 
surface of a sky-blue color that shone over the fields, 
glistening under the rays of the sun lik* a transparent 


THE BOY TAR. 


mirror. That great watery plain was the field upon 
which I longed to disport myself ; far lovelier in my 
eyes than the rigs of waving corn, or the flower-enam 
elled mead, its soft ripple more musical to my ear than 
the songs of thrush or skylark, and even its peculiar 
smell more grateful to my senses than the perfume of 
buttercups and roses. 

As soon, therefore, as L left my chamber and looked 
forth upon this smiling, shining sea, I longed to fling 
myself on its bosom with a yearning which I cannot 
express. To satisfy this desire, I made all haste to 
be gone. I did not even wait for a regular breakfast, 
but was content with a piece of bread and a bowl of 
milk, which I obtained from the pantry, and having 
hurriedly swallowed these, I struck out for the beach. 

I rather stole away than otherwise, for I had appre- 
hensions that some obstacle might arise to hinder me 
from gratifying my wishes. Perhaps my uncle might 
find reason to call me back, and order me to remain 
about the house ; for although he did not object to my 
roaming idly about the fields, I knew that he did not 
like the idea of my going upon the water, and once or 
twice already had forbidden it. 

This apprehension, then, caused me to use a little 
precaution. Instead of going out by the avenue had- 
ing direct from the house to the main road that ran 
along the shore, I went by a back way that would bring 
me f i the beach in a circuitous direction. 

} met with no interruption, but succeeded in reaching 
Ih water edge without being observed — by any one 
^ ' 0 had an interest in knowing where I went. 

On arriving at the little cove where the young water 


THE REEF. 


31 


maii kept his boats, I perceived that the larger one was 
out, but the dingy was there at my service. This was 
just what I wished for, as on that particular day I had 
formed a design to make a very grand excursion in the 
^little boat. My first act, then, was to get inside and 
bale out the water which had gathered in the bottom 
of the dingy. There was a good deal of water in her, 
and I concluded from this that she must have lain 
several days without being used, for she was a craft 
that did not leak very fast. Fortunately, I found an 
old tin pan — that was kept on purpose to bale out 
with — and after scooping away for some ten minutes 
or a quarter of an hour, I got the little boat dry enough 
for my purpose. The oars were kept in a shed behind 
the cottage of the waterman, which stood only a short 
distance back upon the beach ; and these I fetched, as 
I had often done before, without the necessity of asking 
leave from any one. 

I now entered the dingy, and having adjusted the 
thole pins and placed my oars on the rowlocks, I took 
my seat and pushed oft' from the shore. My little skiff 
yielded freely to my stroke, and shot out into the deep 
water as smoothly as if she had been a fish ; and with 
a heart as light as ever beat in my breast, I pulled 
away over the bright blue sea. The sea was not only 
bright and blue, but as calm as a lake. There was 
hardly so much as a ripple, and so clear was it under- 
neath, I could see the fishes at play down to a depth 
of several fathoms. 

The bed of the sea in our bay is of pure sand of a 
silvery whiteness ; and the smallest objects, even litlle 
crabs not so big as a crown piece, could be distinctly 


THE BOY TAB. 


. 32 

seen gambolling along the bottom, in playful pursuit 
of one another, or in search of some creatuies still 
smaller than themselves, of which they design to make 
their breakfast. I could see “ schools ” of small her- 
ring fry and broad round plaice, and huge turbots, and 
beautiful green mackerel, and great conger eels as large 
as boa constrictors, all engaged in pursuits of pleasure 
or prey. 

It was one of those mornings when the sea is per- 
fectly still, and such as are very rare upon our coasts. 
It was just the morning for me, for, as I have already 
said, I had designed a “ grand excursion ” for the day, 
and the weather would enable me to carry my design 
into execution. 

You will ask whither I was going ? Listen, and you 
shall hear. 

About three miles from the shore, and just visible 
from it, lay a small islet. It is not exactly correct to 
say islet. It was but a shoal of rocks — a small patch, 
apparently about a square pole in dimensions, and ris- 
ing only a few inches above the surface of the water. 
This, too, only when the tide was out, for at all other 
^ times it was quite covered with the waves; and then 
there could only be seen a slender staff sticking up out 
of the water to the height of a few feet, and at the 
head of this appeared a sort of knob, or lump. Of 
course the staff had been placed there to point out the 
shoal in times of high tide, so that the sloops and other 
small vessels that traded up the bay might not run up- 
on it by mistake, and so get wrecked. 

Only when the tide was low, then, was this little islet 
to be observed from the shore. Usually, it appeared 


THE REEF. 


33 


of a jet black color ; but there were other times when 
it was as white as if covered a foot deep with snow, 
and then it showed plainer and more attractive. 1 
knew verj well what caused this singular metamorpho- 
sis in its color. I knew that the white mantle that 
covered it was neither more nor less than a vast flock 
of beautiful sea-fowl, that had settled upon the rocks, 
either to rest themselves after so much flying, or to 
search for such small fish or Crustacea as might be left 
there by the tide. 

Now this little spot had long been to me a place of 
firstrate interest — partly on account of its remote and 
isolated situation ; but more, I fancy, on account of 
these very birds, for in no other part of the bay had 1 
seen so many of them together. It seemed also to be 
a favorite place with them ; for at the going out of 
every tide, I observed them gather from all directions, 
hover around the staff, and then settle down upon the 
black rocks around it, until the latter were hidden from 
the view behind the white bodies of the birds. These 
birds were gulls ; but there appeared to be several 
kinds of them ; large ones and small ones, and at dif- 
ferent times I had noticed birds of other kinds — such 
as the great terns and grebes, playing themselves in the 
same neighborhood. Of course, from the shore the 
view one could have of these creatures was a very 
distant one, and it was difficult to tell to what species 
they belonged. The largest of them appeared not 
much bigger than sparrows, and had they not been on 
the wing, or so many of them together, they might 
have mo^•od about unnoticed by any one passing along 
Vhe shore. 


2 * 


34 


THE BOY TAR. 


I think it was the presence of these birds that had 
made this remote spot so interesting to me. At a very 
early age I was fond of all objects of natural history — 
but particularly of the creatures that have wings — and 
I believe there are few boys that are not so. There 
may be sciences and studies of greater importance to 
mankind, but there is none more refining to the taste 
or more fascinating to the youthful fancy than the study 
of nature. Whether it was to get a good look at the 
birds, or-whether from some curiosity about other things 
I might see upon this little islet, I often wished that 1 
could get to it. Never did I turn my eyes in that 
direction — and I did so as often as I came near the 
beach — without feeling a strong wish to get there and 
explore it from end to end. I knew in my memory 
the exact shape of it when the tide was lowest, and 
could at any time have chalked out its profile without 
looking at it. It was lower at both ends, and rose with 
a sort of curve towards the middle, like a huge black 
whale lying along the surface, and the staff, rising from 
the highest point, looked like a harpoon that was stick- 
ing in his back. 

That staff, too, I longed to get my hands upon ; tc see 
vhat it was made out of ; how high it really was if one 
were near it, for it only looked about a yard high from 
'i)e shore ; what sort of a thing the knob was on the 
y»p, and how , the but was fastened in the ground. 
Firmly it must have been set ; for I had often seen the 
waves wash up to it during great storms, and the spray 
driving so high above it, that neither rock, nor staff, noi 
knob were at all visible. 

Ah ! many a time had I sighed to visit that attrac- 


THE REEF. 


3d 

tive spot ; but never yet had the opportunity occurred. 
It was by far too distant for any excursion I had hither- 
to dared to make — far too dangerous a flight for me 
to take in the little dingy ; and no one had offered to 
go with me. Harry Blew had once promised me he 
would take me — at the same time he laughed at the 
desire I expressed to visit such a place. What was it 
to him? He had often rowed past it and around it,, 
and no doubt landed upon it, and perhaps tied his boat 
to the staff, while he shot the sea-birds, or fished in the 
waters beside it ; but it had never been my good for- 
tune to accompany him in one of these pleasant excur- 
sions. I had been in expectation, however, of doing 
so ; but now these hopes were gone. I could no more 
get away except on the Sundays ; and on these very 
days my friend was always engaged in his own occupa- 
tion — for Sundays, above all other days of the week, 
was the time for sailing parties. 

For a long time, then, I had waited in vain ; but 1 
now resolved to wait no longer. I had made a bold 
determination on that very morning; which was, that 
I should take the dingy and visit the reef myself. 
This, then, was the grand excursion on which I was 
bound, when I removed the little boat from her fasten- 
ings, and shot out upon the bosom of the bright blue 
sea. 




CHAPTER VI. 


THE GULLS. 

1 HAVE Styled my determination a bold one. True 
there was nothing remarkable in the enterprise itself. 
I only mean that it was bold for one so young and so 
little as I was at the time. Three miles rowing would 
be a good long pull, and that right out into the great' 
deep water almost beyond sight of the shore ! I had 
never been so far before, nor half so far, neither ; in 
fact, never more than a mile from the beach, and in 
pretty shallow water, too — I mean, while by myself. 
With Blew I had been everywhere around the bay ; 
but then, of course, I had nothing to do with the man- 
agement of the boat ; and, trusting to the skill of the 
young waterman, had no cause to feel afraid. Alone, 
the case was different. Everything depended upon 
myself ; and should any accident arise, I should have 
no one to give me either counsel or assistance. In- 
deed, before I had got quite a mile from the shore, I 
began to reflect that my'enterprise was not only a bold 
but a rash one, and very little would have induced me 
to turn round and pull back. 

It occurred to me, however, that some one might 
have been watching me from the shore ; some boy who 


THE GULLS. 


37 


was jealous of my prowess as an oarsman — and tliere 
were such in our village — and this boy or boys would 
have seen that I had started for the islet, would easily 
have divined my reasons for turning back, and would 
not fail to “ twit ” me with cowardice. Partly influ- 
enced by this thought, and partly because I still had a 
desire to proceed, I plucked up fresh spirit and rowed on. 

When I had got within about half a mile of the 
shoal, I rested upon my oars, and looked behind me, 
for in that direction lay the goal I was struggling to 
reach. I perceived at a glance that the little islet was 
quite out of the water — as if the tide was at its low- 
est — but the black stones were not visible on account 
of the birds that were standing or sitting all over them. 
It looked as if a flock of swans or white geese were 
resting upon the shoal ; but I knew they were only 
large gulls^ for many of the same kind were wheeling 
about in the air — some settling down and some rising to 
take a fresh flight. Even at the distance of half a mile, 
I could hear their screaming quite distinctly, and I had 
heard it much further off, so calm was the atmosphere. 

I was now the more anxious to proceed on account 
of the presence of the birds, for 1 was desirous of get- 
ting near them and having a good view of them. I 
intended to stop again before going too close, in order 
to watch the movements of these pretty creatures — 
for many of them were in motion over the shoal, and 
1 could not divine what they were about. 

In hopes that they would let me approach, near 
enough to observe them, ! rowed gently and silently, 
dipping the blades of my oars as carefully as a cal 
would set down her paws. 


38 


THE BOY TAR. 


When 1 had reached within some two hundred yards 
of them, I once more lifted the oars above water, and 
twisted my neck round to look at the birds. I observed 
that I had not yet alarmed them. Though gulls are 
rather shy birds, they know pretty well the range, of a 
common fowling-piece, and will rarely trouble them- 
selves to stir from the spot where they are seated until 
one is just getting within shooting distance. I had no 
gun, and therefore they had nothing to fear — not 
much, indeed, even had I possessed one, as I should 
not have known how to use it. It is probable enough 
that had they seen a gun they would not have allowed 
me so near, for white gulls somewhat resemble black 
crows in this respect, and can distinguish between a 
gun and hoe-handle a long way off. Right well do 
they know the glance of a shooting-ii'on.” 

I watched the creatures for a long while with great 
interest ; and would have considered myself well re- 
warded for the exertions I had made in getting there, 
had I even turned back on the spot and rowed ashore 
again. The birds that clustered near the stones were 
all gulls, but there were two kinds, very different in 
size, and somewnat unlike in color. One sort had 
-black heads and grayish wings, while the other and 
larger kind was nearly of a pure white color. Nothing 
could exceed . the cleanly appearance of both. They 
looked as if a spot of dirt had never soiled their 
snowy plumage ; and their beautiful red legs shone 
like branches of the purest coral. I made out that 
those upon the stones were engaged in various ways. 
Some ran about evidently in search of food ; and this 
2onsisted of the small fry of fish that had been left by 


THE GULLS. 


39 


the receding tide, as well as little crabs, shrimps, lob- 
aters, mussels, and other curious animals of the sea. 
A great many of the birds merely sat preening their 
white plumage, of which they appeared to be not a 
little proud. But although they all looked contented 
and happy, they were evidently not exempted, any 
more than other living creatures, from cares and evil 
passions. This was proved by the fact that more than 
one terrible quarrel occurred among them while I' was 
looking on, from what cause — unless it w^as the male 
birds battling through jealousy — I could not " deter- 
mine. A most captivating sight it was to see those 
upon the wing engaged in their occupation of fishing ; 
to see them shoot down from a height of more than a 
hundred yards, disappear with almost silent plunge 
beneath the blue waves, and after a short interval 
emerge, bearing their glittering prey in their, beaks. 
Of all the movements of birds, either upon foot or on 
the wing, 1 think there is none so interesting to look at 
as the actions of the fishing gull while engaged in pur- 
suit of his prey. Even the kite is not more graceful 
in its flight. The sudden turning in his onward course 
— the momentary pause to fix more accurately the 
position of his prey — the arrow-like descent — the 
plunge — the white spray dancing upward, and then 
the hiatus occasioned by the total disappearance of the 
winged thunderbolt, until the white object starts forth 
again above the blue surface — all these points are in- 
comparable to behold. No ingenuity of man, aided by 
all the elements of air, water, or fire, can produce an 
exhibition with so fine an effect. 

For a good long while I sat in my little boat watch* 


40 


THE BOY TAR. 


ing the movements of the gulls ; and then, satisfied 
that I had not made the excursion in vain, I turned 
myself to carrying out my original design, and landing 
upon the reef. 

The pretty birds kept their places until I had got 
nearly up to its edge. They seemed to know that I 
intended them no harm, and did not mistrust me. At 
all events, they had no fear of a gun, for when they at 
length arose they winged their way directly ^ver my 
head, so' near that I could almost have struck them 
down with the oar. 

One, that I thought was larger than any of the flock, 
had been all the time perched in a conspicuous place — 
on the top of the signal-staff. Perhaps I only fancied 
him larger on account of the position in which he was 
placed; but I noticed that before any of the others 
took to flight, he had shot upward with a screech, as if 
it were a command for the rest to follow his example. 
Very likely he was either the sentinel or leader of the 
flock ; and this little bit of tactics, was no other than I 
had often seen practised by a flock of crows, when en- 
gaged on a pillaging expedition in a field of beans or 
potatoes. 

The departure of the birds appeared to produce a 
darkening effect upon my spirits. The very sea seemed 
blacker after they had gone; but this was natural 
enough, for instead of their white plumage that had 
filled my eyes, I now looked upon the desolate reef, 
covered over with loose stones that were as black as il 
coated with tar. This was only partly what had brought 
about the change in my feelings. There was another 
3ause. A slight breeze had sprung up, as a cloud 


THE GULLS. 


41 


pai^sed suddenly over tlie sun’s disc ; and the surface 
of t!^ e water, hitherto smooth and glassy, had grown all 
at i \ce of a grayish hue by the curling of the little 
wavvjs. 

reef had a forbidding aspect ; but determined to 
explo>>e it — since I had come so far for that especial 
purposs. — I rowed on till the keel of the dingy grated 
upon th-<} rocks. 

A Hi le cove presented itself to my view, which I 
thought would answer my purpose; and heading my 
prow uj into it, 1 stepped out, and took my way direct 
towards ,he staff — that object which for sc many years 
I had koked upon from afar, and with which J had 
longed h be more intimately acquointed. 


CHAPTER VIL 


SEARCH FOR A SEA-URCHIN. 

I SOON touched with my hands the interesting piecd 
of wood, and felt as proud at that moment as if it had 
been the North Pole itself, and I its discoverer. I was 
not a little surprised at its dimensions, and how much 
the distance had hitherto deceived me. Viewed from 
the shore, it looked no bigger than the shaft of a hoe or 
a hay-fork," and the knob at the top about equal to a 
fair-sized turnip. No wonder I was a bit astonished to 
find the staff as thick, and thicker, than my thigh, and 
the top full larger than my whole body ! In fact, it 
was neither more nor less than a barrel or cask of nine 
gallons. It was set upon end, the top of the staff being 
wedged into a hole in the bottom, thus holding it firmly. 
It was painted white, though this I knew before, for 
often had I viewed it glistening under the* sun, while 
the shaft below was of a dark color. It may have been 
black at one time, and .had grown discolored by the 
weather and the spray of the stormy water, that often 
ashed all around it, even up to the barrel at the top 

Its height, too, I had miscalculated as much as its 
thickness. From the land it appeared no taller than an 
ordinary man ; but looking up to it from the shoal, it 


SEARCH FOR A SEA-URCHIN. 


43 


towered above me like the mast of a sloop. It could 
not have been less than twelve feet — yes, twelve it 
was at the very least. 

I was equally surprised at the extent of ground that 
I found above water. I had long fancied that my islet . 
was only a pole or so in size, but I now perceived it 
was a hundred times that — an acre, or very near. 
Most of the surface was covered with loose rocks, or 
bowlders,” from the size of small pebbles to pieces as 
big as a man’s body, and there were other rocks still 
larger, but these I perceived were not loose, but half 
buried, and fast as rocks could be. They were only 
the projecting ends of great masses that formed the 
strength of the reef. All, both large ones and small 
ones, were coated over with a black, slimy substance, 
and here and there great beds of sea-weed, of different 
kinds, among which I recognized some sorts that were 
usually cast up on our beach, and passed by the name 
of “ sea-wreck.” With these 1 had already formed a 
most intimate acquaintance, for more than one hard 
day’s work had I done in helping to spread them over 
my uncle’s land, where they were used as manure for 
potatoes. 

After having satisfied myself with a survey of the 
tall signal-staff, and guessed at the dimensions of the 
barrel at the top, I turned away from it, and commenced 
wandering over the reef. This T did to see if I could 
find some curious shell or other object that would be 
worth carrying back with me — something to keep as a 
memento of this great and hitherto pleasant excursion. 

It w'as not such an easy matter getting about ; more 
difficult than I had imagined. I luive said the stones 


14 


THE BOY TAR. 


were coated over with a slimy suDstaiiLe, and this made 
them slippery too. Had they been well soaped, they 
could not have been smoovhei to the iread ; and before 
[ had proceeded very far, 1 got a tolerably ugly fall, 
ftnd several severe scrambles. 

I hesitated as to wheihei 1 should go farther in that 
direction — which was to the opposite side from where 
I had left the boat ; but there was a sort of peninsula 
jutting out from the mam part of the reef ; and near 
the end of this I saw what I fancied to be a collection 
of rare shells, and I was now desirous of possessing 
some. With this view, men, I kept on. 

I had already observed several sorts of shells among 
the sand that lay between the bowlders, some with fish 
in them, and others opened and bleached. None of 
these kinds were nCw to me, for I had seen them all 
many a time before — even in the potato-field, where 
they turned up among the wreck. They were only 
blue mussels, and a sort the farm people called 
“ razors,” and “ whelks,” and common “ cockle-shells.” 
I saw no oysters, and I regretted this, for I had grown 
hungry, and could have eaten a dozen or two ; but it 
was not the ground for these. Plenty of little crabs 
and lobsters there were, but these I did not fancy to eat 
unless I could have boiled them, and that of cscrse was 
not possible under the circumstances. 

On my way to the front of the peninsula, I looked 
for “ sea-urchin,” but none fell in my way. I had often 
wished to get a good specimen of this curious shell, but 
without success. Some of them turned up now and 
then upon the beach near our village, but they were not 
allowed to lie long. As they made a pretty ornament 


SEARCH FOR A SEA-URCHIN. 4.j 

for tlie mantel-sheir, and were rare upon our coafit, i( 
was natural they should be prized above the common 
kinds, and such was in reality the case. This reef 
being remote, and being seldom visited by any of the 
boatmen, I was in hopes I should find some upon it, 
and I was determined to look narrowly for one. With 
this view I sauntered slowly along, examining every 
crevice among the rocks, and every water hole that lay 
within eyeshot of my path. 

I had great hopes that I should find something rare 
upon the peninsula. The glittering forms that had 
first induced me to turn my steps in that direction, 
seemed to gleam still brighter as I drew near. For all 
that, I did not particularly hasten. I had no fear that 
the shells would walk off into the water. These were 
houses whose tenants had long since deserted them, and 
I knew they would keep their place till I got up ; so, 
under this impression, I continued to go deliberately, 
searching as I went. I found nothing to my mind until 
I had reached the peninsula ; but then indeed a beauti- 
ful object came under my eyes. It was of a dark red 
color, round as an orange, and far bigger ; but I need 
not describe what I saw, since every one of you must 
have seen and admired the shell of the sea-urchin. 

It was not long before I held it in ray hand, and 
admiring its fine curving outlines, and the curious 
protuberances that covered them. It was one of 
the handsomest T had ever seen, and I congratulated 
myself upon the pretty souvenir it would make of my 
trip. 

For some minutes I kept looking at it, turning it 
over and over, and peeping into its empty inside — into 


46 


THE BOY TAR. 


the smooth white chamber that its tenant had Icng 
since evacuated. Yes, some minutes passed befbie I 
tired of this manipulation ; but at length I remem- 
bered the other shells I had noticed, and strode forward 
to gather them. 

Sure enough they were strangers, and fair strangers 
too. They were of three or four sorts, all new to me ; 
and on this account I filled my pockets with them, and 
after that both my hands, and then turned round with 
the intention of going back to the boat. 

Gracious heaven ! what did I see ? A sight that 
caused me to drop my shells, sea-urchin and all, as if 
they had been pieces of redhot iron. I dropped them 
at my feet, and was nigh to falling on top of them, so 
greatly was I astonished at what I saw. What was it? 
hoot ! my boat ! Where was my boat ? 


CHAPTER VIII. 


LOSS OF THE DINGY. 

Ir was the boat, then, that had caused me this sud- 
den surprise, or rather alarm, for it speedily came to 
this. What, you will ask, had happened to the boat ? 
Had she gone to the bottom ? Not that; but, what at 
first appeared almost as bad for me — she had gone 
away! 

When I turned my eyes in the direction I expected 
to see her, she was not there ! The little cove among 
the rocks was empty. 

There was no mystery about the thing. At a glance 
I comprehended all, since at a glance I saw the boat 
herself, drifting away outward from the reef. No mys- 
tery at all. I had neglected to make the boat fast, had 
not even taken the rope-hawser ashore ; and the breeze 
— which I now observed had grown fresher — catching 
upon the sides of the boat, had drifted her out of the 
cove, and off into the open water. 

My first feeling was simply surprise ; but, in a second 
or two, this gave way to one of alarm. How was I to 
recover the boat? How <o get her back to the reef? 
If not successful in this, how then should I reach the 
ehore ? Three miles was the shortest distance. I could 
not swim it even for my life ; and I had no hope that 


48 


THE liOY TAR. 


any one would come to my rescue. It was not likely 
that any one upon the shore could see me, or be aware 
of my situation. Even the little boat would hardly be 
seen, for I was now aware of how much smaller objects 
would be rendered at that great distance. The signal- 
staff had taught me this fact, as well as the rf‘ef itself. 
Rocks that, from the shore, appeared to rise only a foot 
above the surface, were actually more than a yard. 
The boat, therefore, would hardly be visible, and nei- 
ther I nor my perilous situation would be noticed by 
any one on the shore — unless, indeed, some one might 
chance to be looking through a glass ; but what proba- 
bility was there of such a thing? None whatever, or 
the least in the world. 

Reflection only increased my uneasiness ; for the 
more I reflected, the more certain did it appear to me 
that my negligence had placed me in a perilous sit- 
uation. 

For a while, my mind was in a state of confusion, 
and I could not decide upon what course to follow. 
There was but little choice left me — in fact, I saw no 
alternative at all — but remain upon the reef. Upon 
second thoughts, however, an alternative did suggest 
itself, if I could but succeed in following it. That was 
to swim out after the b;)at, and endeavor to regain pos- 
session of her. She had not drifted so far away but 
that I might reach her by swimming. A hundred yards 
or so she had got from the edge of the islet, but she was 
still widening the distance between -us, and would soon 
be much farther off. 

It was plain, then, that if I intended to take thi? 
course, no time was to be lost — not a moment. 


LOSS OF THE DINGY. 


49 


“What else could 1 do ? If I did not succeed in 
peaching her, I might set myself down for a troublesome 
adventure — perhaps perilous too ; and this belief nerved 
me to the attempt. 

With all the speed I could make, I stripped off my 
clothes and flung them upon the rocks. My shoes and 
stockings followed — even my shirt was thrown aside, 
lest it might encumber me, and just as if I was going in 
to have a bathe and a swim, I launched myself upon the 
water. I had no wading to do. The water was beyond 
my depth from the very edge of the reef, and I had to 
swim from the first plunge. Of course, I struck out 
directly for the boat, and kept on without turning to one 
side or the other. 

I swam as swiftly as I could, but it was a long while 
before I could perceive that I was coming any nearer" 
to the dingy. At times, I thought I was not gaining 
upon her at all, and when the thought occurred to me 
that she might be going as fast as I was, it filled me 
with vexation and alarm. Should I not succeed in 
coming up with her, then it would be a hopeless case 
indeed. I should have to turn round again and swim 
back to the reef, or else go to the bottom — for, as 
already stated, I could no more have reached the shore 
by swimming than I could have swum across the Atlan- 
tic. Though I was now a very good swimmer, and 
might have done a mile on a pinch, three were far be- 
yond my power, and I could not have made the distance 
to save my life. Moreover, the boat was not drifting in 
the direction of the shore, but up the bay, where there 
was at least ten miles of water before me. 

I was getting discouraged in this pursuit, and thought 




j)0 THE BOY TAK. 

of turning back to the reef, before I might become tw 
exhausted to reach it, when I noticed that the ding)» 
veered slightly round, and then drifted in a direction 
oblique to that she had already taken. This arose from 
a sudden puff of wind which blew from a new quarter, 
tt brought the boat nearer me, and I resolved to make 
one more effort to reach her. 

In this, I at length succeeded ; and, in a few minutes 
more, had the satisfaction of laying my hands upon the 
gunwale of the boat, which enabled me to obtain a^litth 
rest after my long swim. 

As soon as I had recovered breath, I attempted to 
climb in over the side ; but, to my chagrin, the crank 
little craft sunk under my weight, and turned bottom 
upwards — as if it had been a washing-tub — plunging 
me under water by the sudden capsize. I rose to the 
surface, and once more laying my hands upon the boat, 
climbed up to get astride across -the keel ; but in this I 
was also unsuccessful, for, losing my balance, I drew the 
boat so much to one side, that she righted again mouth 
upwards. This was what I should have desired; but 
I perceived, to my alarm, that she was nearly full of 
water, which she had shipped in turning over. The 
weight of the water steadied her, so that I w'as able to 
draw myself, over the gunwale without further diffi- 
culty, and got safe enough inside ; but I had not been 
there a second, till I perceived that the boat was sink- 
ing I My additional weight was the cause of this, and 
I saw at once that unless I leaped out again she would 
speedily go to the bottom. Perhaps if I had preserved 
my presence of mind and leaped out again, the boat 
might still have kept afloat. But what with my fearo, 


LOSS OF THE DINGY. 


51 

And the confusion consequent upon the various duck- 
ings I had had, my presence of mind was gone, and I 
remained standing in the boat up to my knees in the 
water. I thought of baling her out, but I could find 
no vessel. The tin pan had disappeared as well as the 
oars: The former, no doubt, had sunk as the boat cap- 
sized, and^the oars were floating on the water at a great 
distance off. 

In my despair, I commenced _baling out the water 
with my hands; but I had not made half a dozen 
strokes, before I felt that she was going down. The 
next instant she had gone — sinking directly underneath 
me, and causing me to jump outwards in order to es- 
cape from being carried down in the vortex she had 
made. 

I cast one glance upon the spot where she had disap- 
peared. I saw that she was gone forever ; and heading 
away from the spot, I swam back in the direction of the 
reef. 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE SIGNAL-STAFF. 

1 SUCCEEDED in reaching the reef, but not without a 
tough struggle. As I breasted the water, I felt that 
there was a current against me — the tide ; and this it 
was, as well as the breeze, that had been drifting the 
boat away. But I got back to the reef, and there was 
not a foot to spare. The stroke that brought me up to 
the edge of the rocks, would have been my last, had no 
rocks been there ; for it would have been the last 1 
could give, so much was I exhausted. Fortunately, my 
strength had proved equal to the effort ; but that was 
now quite gone, and I lay for some minutes upon the 
edge of the reef, at the spot where I had crawled out, 
waiting to recover my breath. 

I did not maintain this inactive attitude longer than 
was necessary. This was not a situation in which to 
trifle with time, and knowing this, I got to my feet 
again to see if anything could be done. 

Strange enough, I cast my eyes in the direction 
whence I had just come from the boat. It was rather 
a mechanical glance, and I scarce know why I should 
have looked in that particular direction. Perhaps I 
had some faint hope that the sunken craft might rise 


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THE SIGNAL-STAFF. 


53 


the surface ; and I believe some such fancy actually did 
present itself. I was not permitted to indulge in it, 
for there was no boat to be' seen, nor anything like one. 
I saw the oars floating far out, but only the oars ; and 
for all the service they could do me, they might as well 
have gone to the bottom, along with the boat. 

I next turned my eyes toward the shore ; but noth- 
ing was to be seen in that direction, but the low-lying 
land upon which the village was situated. I could not 
see any people on shore — in fact, I could hardly dis- 
tinguish the houses ; for, as if to add to the gloom and 
peril that surrounded me, the sky had become overcast, 
and along with the clouds a fresh breeze had sprung up. 

This was raising the water into waves of considera- 
ble height, and these interfered with my view of the 
beach. Even in bright weather, the distance itself 
would have hindered me from distinguishing human 
forms on the shore ; for from the reef to the nearest 
suburb of the village, it was more than three statute 
miles. 

Of course, it would have been of no avail to have 
cried out for assistance. Even on the calmest day, I 
could not have been heard, and fully understanding 
this, I held my peace. 

There was nothing in sight — neither ship, nor sloop, 
nor schooner nor brig — not a boat upon the bay. It 
was Sunday, and vessels had kept in port. Fishing 
boats, for the same reason, were not abroad, and such 
pleasure boats as belonged to our village had all gone 
in their usual direction, down the bay, to a celebrated 
lighthouse there — most likely the boat of Harry Blew 
among the rest 


54 


THE BOY TAR. 


There was no sail in sight, either to the north, fhe 
south, the east, or the west. The bay appearea de- 
serted, and I felt as much alone as if I had been shu» 
up in my coffin. 

I remember distinctly the dread feeling of loneliness 
that came over me. I remember that I sank down upou 
the rocks and .wept. 

/fo add to my agony of mind, the sea-birds — prob- 
ably angry at me for having driven them away from 
their resting place and feeding ground, now returned ; 
and, hovering over my head in a large flock, screamed 
in my ears as if they intended to deafen me. At times, 
one or another of them w'ould swoop almost within 
reach of my hands ; and, uttering their wild cries, shoot 
off again, to return next moment with like hideous 
screams. I began to be afraid that these wild birds 
might attack me, though I suppose in their demonstra- 
tions they were merely actuated by some instinct ot 
curiosity. 

After considering every point that presented itself to 
my mind, I. could think of no plan to pursue, other than 
to sit down, (or stand up, if I liked it better,) and wait 
till some succor should arrive. There was no other 
course left. Plainly, I could not get away from the islet 
of myself, and therefore I must needs stay till some one 
came- to fetch me. 

But when would that be ? It would be the merest 
chance if any one on shore should turn their eyes in 
the direction of the reef ; and even if they did, they 
would not recognize my presence there without the aid 
of a glass. One or two of the watermen had telescopes 
- this I knew — and Harry Blew had one ; but it was 


THE SIGNAL-STAFF. 


dS 

not evciy day that the men used these instruments, and 
ten chances to one against their pointing them to the 
reef. What would they be looking lor in that direction ? 
No boats ever came or went that way, and vessels 
passing down or up the bay always gave the shoal a 
wide berth. My chances, therefore, of being seen from 
the shore, either with the naked eye or through a glass, 
were slender enough. But still more slender were the 
hopes I indulged that some boat or other craft might 
pass near enough for me to hail it. It was very un- 
likely, indeed, that any one would be coming in that 
direction. 

It was with very disconsolate feelings, then, that I sat 
down upon the rock to await the result. 

That I should have to remain there till I should be 
starved, I did not anticipate. The prospect did not 
appear to me so bad as that, and yet such might have 
been the case, but for one circumstance, which I felt 
confident would arise to prevent it. This was, that 
Harry Blew would miss the dingy, and make search 
for me. 

He might not, indeed, miss her before nightfall — 
because he might not return with his boating party 
before that time. As soon as night came, however, he 
would be certain to get home ; and then, finding the 
little boat away from her moorings, he would naturally 
suspect that I had taken her, for I was the only boy in 
the village, or man either, who was allowed this priv- 
ilege. The boat being absent, then, and not even re- 
turning at night. Blew would most likely proceed to my 
incle’s house ; and then the alarm at my unusual ab* 
aence would lead to a search for me ; which, I sup* 


V 


56 THE BOY TAR. 

posed, would soon guide them to actual where* 
abouts. 

Indeed, I was far less troubled about the danger 1 
was in than about the damage I bad done. How could 
I ever face my friend Blew again? bow make up foi 
the loss of his boat ? This was a serious consideration. 
I had no money of my own, and would my uncle pay it 
for me ? I feared not ; and yet some one must remu- 
nerate the young waterman for the considerable loss I 
had occasioned him. But who was to do it, or how was 
it to be done ? If my uncle would only allow me to 
work for Harry, thought I, I might make it up to him 
in that way. I would be willing to work at so much a 
week till the boat was paid for, if he could only find 
something for me to do. 

I was actually making calculations as to how I should 
make good the loss — and regarding that as my chief 
trouble at the moment. It had not yet occurred to me 
that my life - was in danger. True, I anticipated a 
hungry night of it, and a bitter cold one, too. I 
should be wet through and through, for I knew that 
when the tide returned it would cover the stones of 
the reef, and I should have to stand all night in the 
water. 

By the way, how deep would it be ? Up to vsrj 
knees ? 

I looked around to discover some means of judging 
how high the water was wont to rise. I knew that the 
rocks would be all covered, for I had often seen, them 
BO ; but I had been all my life under the impression, 
and so were people who lived on the shore, that the 
WHter rose only a few inches above the reef. 


THE SIGNAL-STAFF. 


57 


At first, I cou/d observe nothing that would guide me 
as to the height, but at length my eye fell upon the sig 
nal-staflT, and ran up and down its shaft. There was a 
water -line, sure enough, and there was even a circle of 
white paint round the post, no doubt intended to mark 
it ; but judge my surprise, my absolute terror, when T 
perceived that this line was at least six feet above the 
base of the staff! 

Half distracted, I ran up to the pole. I placed my- 
self by its side, and looked up. Alas! my eye had 
measured but too correctly. The line was far above 
my head. I could hardly touch it with the tips of my 
fingers ! 

A thrill of horror ran through my veins, as I con- 
templated the result of this discovery. The danger was 
too clearly defined. Before rescue could reach me, the 
tide would be in. I should be overwhelmed — swept 
fixim the reef — drowned in the waste of waters I 


CHAPTER X. 


CLIMBING A SMOOTH POLE. 

My belief now was that my life was in peril — nay 
rather, that death was almost certain. My hopes of 
being rescued on that day were but slight from the first, 
but now they were slighter than ever. The tide would 
be back long before night. In a few hours, it would 
be at its flood, and that would be the end. Should 
people go in search of me before night — which, for 
reasons already given, was not at all likely — they 
would be too late. The tide would not wait either for 
them or for me. 

The mixed feeling of horror and despair that came 
over me, held me for a long time as if paralyzed. I 
could not give consideration to anything, nor did I no- 
tice for some time what was going on around me. I 
only gazed upon the blank surface of the sea, at inter- 
vals turning from one side to the other, and helplessly 
regarding the waves. There was neither sail nor boat 
in sight ; nothing to relieve the dreary monotony, but 
here and there the white \^gs of the gulls, flapping 
about at their leisure. They no longer continued to 
annoy me with their screaming, though now and then 
an odd one would return, and fly very near ; as if won* 


CLIMBING A SMOOTH POLE. 


59 


doring what I was doing in such a place, and whether 1 
did not mean to go away from it. 

From this state of gloomy despair, I was aroused 
by a gleam of hope. My eyes had fallen upon the 
signal-staff — the sight of which had so lately caused 
me a feeling of the opposite kind ; and then the thought 
rushed into my mind, that by means of this I might save 
myself. 

I need hardly say that my design was to climb to its 
top, and there remain till the tide should go down again. 
One half the post, I knew, was above water-mark, 
even at high tide ; and on its top“I should find safety. 

It was only a question of climbing up the staff ; but 
that seemed easy enough. I was a good tree climber, 
and surely I could accomplish this. 

The discovery of this place of refuge filled me with 
renewed hopes. Nothing could be easier than to get 
up ; I might have a hard night of it, staying up there, 
but there could be no danger. The peril was past — I 
should yet live to laugh at it. 

Buoyed up with this belief, I once more approached 
th^ staff, with the intentich of climbing up. I did nqt 
intend going up to remain. I thought it would be time 
enough when my footing failed me below ; it was only 
to make sure that I should be able to climb the pole 
when the hour of necessity arrived. 

I found it more difficult than I had anticipated, espe- 
cially in getting up the first six feet. This portion of 
the staff was coated over with some slimy substance — 
the same that covered the rocks around — and this ren- 
dered it as slippery as one of the greased poles that 1 
had seen at merrymakings in our village. 


oO 


THE BOY TAR. 


It cost me several attempts and failures before 1 
could get above the water-mark ; but the rest was more 
easy, and I soon reached the top of the staff. 

I stretched my hand upward to seize hold of the bar 
rel, and draw myself up upon it — congratulating m^ 
self that I had been able to accomplish ray object - . 
when a change came suddenly over my feelings, and i 
was once more plunged into despair. 

My arm was too short to reach the upper rim of the 
cask. I could only touch the swell, scarce half-way up. 
I could get no hold upon it, either to stay me where I 
was, or to pull myself up farther. 

I could not remain where I was. In a few seconds 
my strength gave way, and I was forced to slide down 
to the base of the staff. 

I tried again, with no better success ; and then again, 
with a similar result. It was to no purpose. Stretch 
my arms as I would, and wriggle my limbs as I might, 
I could not get my body higher than the point where 
the staff was set, and could only extend my hand half- 
way up the rounded swell of the cask. Of course I 
could not keep there, as there was nothing to rest my 
weight upon, and I was forced to glide back to the 
ground. 

It was with a feeling of renewed alarm, then, that I 
made tliis discovery, but I did not as before yield my- 
self up to despair. Perhaps my wits were quickened 
by the peril that was fast approaching me. At all" 
events, I kept my senses about me, and set to consider- 
ing what was best to be done. 

, If I had only been in possession of a knife, I might 
have cut notches in the pole high up, and on these 


V. 


CLIMBING A SMOOTH POLE. 


61 


fested luy feet ; but I had no knife, — nothing to make 
notches with, — unless I had eaten them out with my 
teeth. Verily, I was in a difficult dilemma. 

All at once, however, a bright thought came to my 
relief. Why might I not raise a resting-place from be- 
low ? Why not make a platform by building stones 
around the post, until they had reached above water- 
mark, and then stand upon these ? The very thing 
itself. A few stones, I had noticed already, were piled 
around the base, no doubt placed there to make the 
staff more firm. It would only be to bring up more 
stones, build them into^aTcafm, and then get on the top 
of them. 

Delighted with this new project of safety, I lost not 
a moment in setting about carrying it into effect. There 
were plenty of loose bowlders lying over the reef, and 1 
supposed that in a few minutes I could heap up enough 
of them to serve the purpose ; but I had not worked 
long before 1 perceived that the job would occupy me 
longer than I had anticipated. The stones were slip- 
pery, and this hindered me greatly in carrying them, — 
some were too heavy for me, and others' that I had 
supposed to be loose, I found to be half buried in 
sand, and held so fast that I could not draw them 
out. 

Notwithstanding these impediments, I worked on with 
all the strength and energy 1 could command. I knew 
that in time I could raise the cairn as high as required, 
but time had now become the all-engrossing subject of 
my thoughts. 

The tide had long since turned, — it was rising, — 
slowly and continuously it was lipping nearer and nearer 


62 


THE BOY TAK.. 


— s.jwly but with certainty was it coming ; and I per 
'ceived all this ! 

I had many a fall, as I scrambled to and fro ; and 
my knees were bleeding from contact with the hard 
stones ; but these were not matters to grieve about, nor 
was it a time to give way to hardships, however painful 
to endure. A far greater hardship threatened, — the 
loss of life itself, — and I needed no urging to make me 
persevere with my work. 

I had raised the pile up to the height of my head 
before the tide had yet risen over the rocks, but I knew 
that this would not be high enough. Two feet more 
•was wanted to bring the top of my cairn on a level 
with high-water-mark ; and to accomplish this I slaved 
away without thinking of a moment’s rest. The work 
as it went on became more difficult. The loose stones 
that lay near had all been used, and I was obliged to go 
far out on the reef to procure others. This led to a 
great many severe falls, in which both my hands and* 
knees were badly bruised ; besides, it prevented me 
from making rapid progress. There w'as another cause 
that delayed me. At the height of four feet the pile 
was on a level with the crown of my head, and it w’as 
with difficulty I could place the stones higher up. Each 
one occupied me for minutes, and sometimes a heavy 
bowlder which I had succeeded in getting up, would roll 
back again, endangering my limbs in its fall. 

In fine, after laboring for a long time, — two hours, 
»r more, — my work was brought to a termination. Not 
that it was done — far from it. Unfortunately, it was 
not terminated, but interrupted. What interrupted it 1 
need hardly tell you, as you will guess that it was the 



CLIMBING A SMOOTH POLE. 


63 


tide. Yes, it was the tide, which, as soon as it had 
fairly begun to cover the stones, seemed to rush * ver 
them all at once. It did not recoil, as I have often 
seen it do upon the beach. There it flows in gradually, 
wave after wave ; but upon the reef — the surface of 
which was nearly of equal height — the water, at the 
first rush, swept all over the rocks, and was soon of a 
considerable depth. 

I did not leave off my exertions until long after the 
rocks were covered. 1 worked until I was knee-deep 
in water, bending down to the surface, almost diving 
under it, detaching great stones from their bed, and 
carrying them in my arms towards the pile. I toiled 
away, with the spray spitting in my face, and sometimeij 
great sheets of it breaking over my body, until I feared 
it would drown me, — toiled on till the water grew so 
deep and the sea so strong, that I could no longer keep 
my footing upon the rocks ; and then, half wading, half 
swimming, I brought my last stone to the heap, and 
hoisted it up. Climbing after, I stood upon the highest 
point of the battery I had erected, with my right arm 
closely hugging the shaft of the signal. In this atti- 
tude, and with trembling heart, I watched the inflow of 
the tide. 


CHAI»TER XI. 


THE RETURNING TIDE. 

To say that I awaited the result with confidence 
would not be at all true. Quite the contrary. Fear 
and trembling were far more the characteristics of my 
mind in that hour. Had I been allowed more time to 
build my cairn, — time to have made it high enough to 
overtop the waves, and firm enough to resist them, 1 
should have felt less apprehension. I had no fear that' 
the signal-staff would give way. It had been well 
proved, for there had it stood defying the storm as long 
as I could remember. It was my newly-raised cairn 
that I dreaded, both its height and its durability. As 
to the former, I had succeeded in raising it five feet 
high, just within one foot of high- water-mark. This 
would leave me to stand a foot deep in water, nor did 
I regard that in the light of a hardship. It was not on 
this account I had such uncomfortable imaginings. It 
was altogether a different thought that was vexing me. 
It was the dopbt I entertained of the faithfulness of this 
water-mark. I knew that the white line indicated the 
height of the full tide under ordinary circumstances, 
and that when the sea was calm, the surface would coin- 
eide with the mark ; but only when it was dead caloL 


THE RETURNING TIDE. 


65 


Now it was not calm at that moment. There wa& 
enough of breeze to have raised the waves at least a 
foot in height — perhaps two feet. If so, then two- 
thirds, or even three-fourths, of my body would be 
under water, — to say nothing of the spray which would 
be certain to drive around me. This, however, was 
still far less than I had to fear. Supposing that the 
breeze should continue to freshen, — supposing a storm 
should come on, — nay, even an ordinary gale, — then, 
indeed, the slight elevation which I had obtained above 
the surface would be of no avail, — for during storms I 
had often observed the white spray lashing over that 
very reef, and rising many feet above the head of the 
signal-staff. ^ 

“ Oh ! if a storm should arise, then am I lost in- 
deed ! ” 

Every now and then was I pained with such an 
apprehension. 

True, the probabilities were in my favor. It was 
the fair month of May, and the morning of that day one 
of the finest I had ever seen. In any other month, a 
storm would have been more regular ; but there are 
storms even in May, and weather that on shore may 
seem smiling and bright, is, for all that, windy and gusty 
uiX)n the bosom of the broad sea, and causes destruction 
to many a fine ship. Moreover, it did not need to be a 
hurricane ; far less than an ordinary gale would be 
sufficient to overwhelm me, or sweep me from the pre- 
carious footing upon which I stood. 

Another apprehension troubled me, — my cairn was 
far too loosely put together. I had not attempted to 
make any building of the thing ; there was not time for 


66 


THE BOY TAR. 


that The stones had been hurled or huddled on. top 
of one another, just as they dropped out of ray hands ; 
and as I set my feet upon them I felt they were far 
from firm. What if they should not prove enough so to 
resist the current of the returning tide, or the lashing 
of the waves ? Should they not, then indeed I had 
labored in vain. Should they fall, I must fall with 
them, never again to rise ! 

No wonder that this added another to the many 
doubts I had to endure ; and as I thought upon such a 
mischance occurring, I again looked eagerly outward? 
and ran my eyes in every direction over the surface 
of the bay — only, as on every other occasion, to meet 
with sad disappointment. 

For a long time I remained in the exact position I 
had first assumed, — that is, with my arm thrown round 
the signal-staff, and hugging it as if it were a dear 
friend. True, it was the only friend I had then ; but 
for it an attempt to have built the cairn would have 
been vain. Even could I have raised it to the full 
height, it is neither likely that it would have stood the 
water or that I could have held my position upon it. 
Without the staff to hold on to, I could not have bal- 
anced my body on its top. 

This position, then, I kept, almost without moving a 
muscle of my body. I dreaded even to change my feet 
from one stone to another, lest the movement might 
^ shake the pile and cause it to tumble down, and I knew 
that if once down, there would be no chance to build it 
up again. The time was past for that. The water all 
around the base of the staff was now beyond my depth 
I could nol have moved a step without swimming. 




THE RETURNING TIDE. 


67 


1 passed most of the time in gazing over the water 
though I did not move my body, I kept constantly 
turning my neck. Now looking before, then behind, 
then to both sides, and the next moment repeating these 
observations, until I had scanned the surface for the 
fiftieth time, without sight of boat or ship to reward me. 
At intervals I watched the returning tide, and the huge 
waves as they rolled towards me over the reef, coming 
home from their far wanderings. They appeared 
angry, and growled at me, as they passed, as if to chide 
and scold me for being there. "yVhat was I, weak 
mortal, doing in this their own peculiar home, — this 
ground that was the chosen spot for their wild play ? I 
even fancied that they talked to me. I grew dizzy as 
I watched them, and felt as if I should swoon away and 
melt into their dark flood. 

I saw them rising higher and higher, until they 
swept over the top of my cairn, and covered my feet 
resting on it ; higher still and yet higher, till 1 felt them , 
lipping against my knees. Oh when will they stay? 
When will they cease to come on ? 

Not yet — not yet — higher ! higher ! till I stand up 
to the waist in the briny flood, and even above that 
the spray washes around me — against my face — 
over my shoulders — into my mouth, and eyes, and 
ears — half stifling me, half drowning me ! Oh merciful 
Father ! 

The water had reached its height and I was almost 
overwhelmed by it ; but with desperate tenacity of life 
I held out — closely clinging to the signal-shaft. For a 
very long time I held on, and, had no change occurred, 
r might have been able to keep my place till morning 


68 


THE BOY TAR. 


but a change was near, and one that placed me m 
greater peril than ever. 

Night came on ; and, as if this had been a signal for 
my destruction, the wind increased almost to a gale. 
The clouds had been scowling thi’oughout the twilight, 
as if threatening rain, which now fell in torrents — the 
wind, as it were, bringing the rain along with it. I per- 
ceived that the waves were every moment rising higher, 
and one or two large ones now swept almost over me. 
So great was their strength that I was scarcely able to 
resist it, and 'came very near being swept away. _ 

I was now full of fear. I saw that should the break- 
ers grow larger, I could not hold out against them, but 
must succumb. Even as they were, it was doubtful 
whether my strength would hold out. 

The last great wave that struck me had somewhat 
altered my foothold upon the stones, and it was necessa- 
ry for me to recover it, or fix myself still better. For 
this purpose I raised my body a little by my arms, and 
was feeling about with my foot for the most elevated 
point of my battery, when another huge wave came 
rushing along, and whipping both my feet off the stones, 
carried them out from the shaft. I held on with both 
arms, and for some moments hung almost horizontally 
upon the water, until the wave had passed. Then per- 
mitting my feet to drop down, I felt once more for the 
support of the cairn. I touched the stones, but only 
touched them. As soon as a pound of my weight rested 
upon them, I felt the cairn crumbling beneath my feet, 
as if it had melted suddenly away ; and, no longer able 
to sustain myself, I glided down the staff*, and sank after 
the scattered pile to the bottom of the sea ! 




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CHAPTER XII. 

HUGGING THE STAFF. 

Fortunately for me I had learnt to swim, and thai 
I was a tolerably good hand at it. , It was the most use« 
ful accomplishment I could have possessed at that mo- 
ment ; and but for it 1 should have been drowned on 
the instant. Diving, too, I could do a little at, else the 
ducking I then received would have discomfited me a 
good deal ; for I went quite to the bottom among the 
ugly black stones. 

I stayed there not a moment longer than I could 
help, but mounted back to the surface like a duck ; and 
then, rising upon the wave, looked around me. My 
object in so doing was to get sight of the signal-staff, 
and with the spray driving in my eyes this was not so 
easy. Just like a water-dog searching for some object 
in the water, I had to turn twice or thrice before I 
saw it — for I was uncertain in which direction to look 
for it, so completely had the sudden plunge blinded me 
and blunted my senses. 

I got my eyes upon it at length ; not within reach, 
as might have been expected — but many yards off, 
quite twenty, I should think ! Wind and tide had been 
busy with me ; and had I left them to themselves for 


70 


THE BOY TAB. 


ten minutes more, they would have carried me to a 
point from which I should never have been able to 
swim back. 

As soon as I espied the post I struck directly foi 
it, — not indeed that I very clearly knew what I should 
do when I got there, but urged on with a sort of instinct 
that something might interfere in my favor. I was 
acting just as men act when in danger of being drowned. 
I was catching at straws. I need not say that I was 
cool ; you would not believe me, nor would there be a 
word of truth in it, for I was far from cool in the moral 
sense of the w'ord, whatever I might be personally and 
physically. On the contrary, I was frightened nearly 
out of my senses ; and had just enough left to direct me 
back to the post — though this might only have been 
instinct. But no — something more than instinct — for 
I had at the same time a keen and rational sense of the 
unpleasant fact, that when I should arrive at the post, I 
might not be a bit nearer to safety. I had no fear about 
being able to reach the staff. I had confidence enough 
in my natatory powers to make me easy on that score. 
It was only when I thought of the little help I should 
find there, that my apprehensions were keen, and this I 
was thinking of all the while I was in the water. 

I could easily have climbed the staff as far as the 
cask, but no farther. To get to the top was beyond my 
power ; one of those difficulties which even the fear 
of death cannot overcome. I had tried it till I was 
tired trying ; in short, till I saw I could not do it. 
Could I only have accomplished that feat, I might have 
done so before, for I took it for granted that on that 
h’gh perch I should have been safe, and the nine gallon 


HUGGING THE STAFF. 


71 


barrel would have been large enough to have given me 
a seat where T might without difficulty have weathered 
the storm. ~ ' 

Another reason there was why it would have been 
the best place for me. Had I succeeded in mounting 
ap there before nightfall, some one upon the shore 
might have noticed me, and then the adventure would 
have end^ without all this peril. I even thought at 
the time of those things, and while clambering up the 
shaft entertained hopes that some one might observe 
me. I afterwards learned that some one did — more 
than one — idlers along shore ; but not knowing who it 
was, and very naturally believing that some Sabbath- 
breaking boys had gone out to the reef to amuse them- 
selves, — part of that amusement being to swarm ” up 
the signal-staff, — I was set down as one of those, and 
no farther notice was taken of me. 

I could not have continued to go up the staff. It 
speedily tired me out ; besides, as soon as I perceived 
■Se necessity for erecting the platform, I needed every 
second of the time that was left me for that work. 

All the above thoughts did not pass through my 
mind while I was in the water struggling back to the 
staff, though some of them did. I thought of the im- 
possibility of climbing up above the barrel, — that was 
clear to me ; and I thought also of what I should do 
when I reached the post, and that was not clear to me. 
I should be able to lay hold upon the staff, as I had 
done before, but how I was to retain my hold was the 
unsolved problem. And it remained so, till I had got 
up and seized the staff, and indeed for a good wliile 
after. 


72 


THE, BOY TAR. 

Well, 1 reached the pole at length, after a great dea 
of buffeting, having the wind and tide, and even the 
rain in my teeth. But I reached it, and flung ray arms 
ar Ducd it as if it had been some dear old friend. Nor 
was it aught else. Had it not been for that brave stick, 
I might as well have stayed at the bottom. 

Having clutched hold of it, I felt for some moments 
almost as if I had been saved. I experienced no great 
difficulty in keeping my limbs afloat so long as I had 
such a support for my arms — though the work was 
irksome enough. 

Had the sea been perfectly calm, I could have stood 
it for a long time ; perhaps till the tide had gone out 
again, and this would have been all I could have de- 
sired. But the sea was not calm, and that altered the 
case. There had been a short lull with a smoother sea 
just as I returned to the staff, and even this was a for- 
tunate circumstance, as it gave me time to rest and 
recover my breath. 

Only a short respite it was, and then came wind and 
rain and rough seas — rougher than ever. I was first 
lifted up nearly to the barrel, and then let down again 
with a pitch, and then for some minutes was kept 
swinging about — the staff serving as a pivot — like some 
wonderful acrobat performing his feats in a gymnasium. 

I withstood the fii’st shock, and though it bowled me 
about, I held on manfully. I knew I was holding on 
for my life, and “ needs must ; ” but I had slight reason 
to be satisfied. I felt how near it was to taking me, 
and I had gloomy forebodings about the result. Worse 
might come after, and I knew that a few struggles liko 
this last would soon wear me out. 


HUGGING THE STAFF. 


73 


Whal, then, could I do that would enable me to hold 
on ? In the interval between the great seas, this was 
my ruling thought. If I had only been possessed of a 
rope, I could have tied myself to the staff ; but then a 
rope -was as far away as a boat, or an easy chair by m) 
uncle’s fireside. It was no use thinking of a rope, nor 
did I waste time in doing so ; but just at that moment, 
as if some good spirit had put the idea into my head, 
I thought of something as good as a rope — a substitute. 
Yes, the very thing came up before my mind, as though 
Providence had guided me to think of it. 

You are impatient to hear what it was. You shall 
hear. ^ 

Around my arms and shoulders I wore a garment 
familiarly known as a “cord jacket” — a roundabout 
of corduroy cloth, such as boys in the humbler ranks of 
life use to wear, or did when I was a boy. It was my 
every-day suit, and after my poor mother’s death it had 
come to be my Sunday wear as well. Let us say noth- 
ing to disparage this jacket. I have since then been 
generally a well-dressed man, and have worn broadcloth 
of the finest that West of England looms could produce ; 
but all the wardrobe I ever had would not in one bundle 
weigh as much in my estimation as that corduroy jacket. 
I think I may say that I owe my life to it. 

Well, the jacket chanced to have a good row of but- 
tons upon it — not the common horn, or bone, or flimsy 
lead ones, such as are worn nowadays, but good, sub- 
stantial metal buttons — as big as a shilling every way, 
and with strong iron eyes in them. Well was it for me 
they were so good and strong. _ 

I had the jacket upon my person, and that, too, wa^ 
4 


74 


THE BOY TAR. 


a chance in my favor, for just as like 1 might not havt 
had it on. When I started to overtake the boat, I had 
thrown off both jacket and trousers ; but on my return 
from that expedition, and before I had got as badly 
scared as I became afterwards, I had drawn my clothes 
on again. The air had turned rather chilly all of & 
sudden, and this it was that influenced me to re-robe 
myself. All a piece of good fortune, as you will pre- 
sently perceive. 

What use, then, did I make of the jacket? Tear it 
up into strips, and with these tie myself to the staflP? 
No. That might have been done, but it would have 
been rather a difficult performance for a person swim- 
ming in a rough sea, and having but one hand free to 
make a knot with. It would even have been out of my 
power to have taken the jacket off my body, for the 
wet corduroy was clinging to my skin as if it had been 
glued there. I did not do this, then; but I followed 
out a plan that served my purpose as well — perhaps 
better. I opened wide my jacket, laid my breast against 
the signal-staff, and, meeting the loose flaps on the other 
side, buttoned them from bottom to top. 

Fortunately the jacket was wide enough to take in 
all. My uncle never did me a greater favor in his life — 
though I did not think so at the time — than when he 
made me wear an ugly corduroy jacket that was “ miles 
too big ” for me. — 

When the buttoning was finished, I had a moment to 
rest and reflect — the first for a long while. 

So far as being washed away was concerned, I had 
no longer anything to fear.*^ The post itself might go, 
but not without me, or I without it. From that lime 


HUGGING THE STAFF. 


75 


forward I was as much part of the signal-staff as the 
barrel at its top, — indeed, more, I fancy, — for a ship’s 
hawser would not have bound me faster to it than did 
the flaps of that strong corduroy. 

Had the keeping cbse to the signal-staff been all 
that was wanted I should have done well enough, but, 
alas ! I was not yet out of danger ; and it was not long 
ere I perceived that my situation was but little improved. 
Another vast breaker came rolling over the reef, and 
washed quite over me. In fact, I began to think that 1 
was worse fixed than ever ; for in trying to fling myself 
upward as the wave rose, I found that my fastening 
impeded me, and hence the complete ducking that I 
received. When the wave passed on, I was still in my 
place ; ■ but what advantage would this be ? I should 
soon be smothered by such repeated immersions. I 
should lose strength to hold up, and would then slide 
down to the bottom of the staff, and be drowned all thje 
same — although it might be said that I had “died by 
the standard.” 


CHAPTER XIIL 


A STATE 'OF “SUSPENSE.” 

1 HAD not lost presence of mind as yet, but once 
more set about considering bow I might be able to keep 
above water. I could easily slide up the staff without 
taking out a single button ; but once up, how could I 
remain there ? I should certainly come slipping down 
again. Oh ! that there was only a notch — a knot — 
a nail — if I only had a knife to make a nick; but 
knot, notch, nail, knife, nick — all were alike denied 
me. Stay ! I was wrong — decidedly wrong. I re- 
membered just then that while attempting to get over 
the barrel, I had noticed that the staff just under it was 
smaller than elsewhere. It had been flanged off at the 
top, as if to make a point upon it, and upon this point 
was placed the barrel, or rather a portion of the top was 
inserted into the end of the barrel. 

I remembered this narrow part. It formed a sort of 
ring or collar round the post. Was it likely that the 
protuberance would be large enough to make a hold for 
my jacket, and prevent it from slipping back ? Likely 
or not, it was not the time to be nice about the choice 
of expedients. There was no choice — this or nothing. 

Before another sea could reach me, I had “ swarmed ” 


A 'STATE OE “SUSPENSE.” 


77 


up the pole. I tried the experiment. It would not do 
I came sliding down again, sadder than I had gone up ; 
and as soon as down, I was treated to “ another sorrow 
of the same ” — a fresh sea that ducked and drowned 
me as before. , 

The cause of my failure was that I could not get the 
collar of my jacket high enough. My head was in the 
way. 

Up the pole again with a new thought. A fresh hope 
had arisen in my mind, as soon as I rose out of the 
waves ; and this hope was that I might fasten some- 
thing around the top, and to this something fasten myself. 

But what was the something to be ? I had also 
thought of that; and you shall hear what it was. I 
chanced to have upon my shoulders a pair of braces, 
and fortunately they were good ones — no peddler’s 
stuff, but stout braces of buckskin leather. This was 
the something by which I intended to hang myself up 

I lost no time in trying. I had no desire to stay 
longer below than I could help, and I soon “ speeled 
up again. The jacket served a good purpose. It 
helped to stay me on the staff ; and by pressing my back 
outward, and holding well with my feet, I could remain 
a good while without getting tired. 

Placing myself in this attitude, I unloosed my braces. 
I acted with caution, notwithstanding my disagreeable 
plight. I took care not to drop them while knotting’ 
the two together; and I also took care to make the 
knot a firm one, as well as to waste only a very little 
of the precious length of the buckskin. I should need 
every inch of it. 

Having got therr both into one piece, I made a loop 


78 


THE BOY TAR. 


Ht the end, taking care that the post should be inside 
the loop. This done, I pushed the loop up till it was 
above the shoulder of the staff — right “ chuck ” up to 
the barrel — and then I drew it tight and close. It 
remained only to pass the other end through ray but- 
toned jacket, and knot it round the cloth. This j 
managed after a little, and then lying back, tried it with 
my whole weight. I even let go with my feet, and 
hung suspended for a moment or two ; and had any 
pilot just then have seen me through his night-glass, he 
could have had but^one belief — that suicide or some 
terrible crime had been committed. 

Overw’^earied, half drowned w’as I, and I will not say 
whether or not I laughed at the odd attitude in which I 
l:ad placed myself ; but I could have laughed, for from 
that moment I knew no further fear. I felt that I was 
delivered from death, as certainly as if I had seen Harry 
Blew and his boat rowing within ten yards of me. The 
storm might rage, rain fall, and wind blow ; spray might 
pitch over and around me; but I was satisfied that T 
should be able to keep my position in spite of all. 

True, it was far from being as comfortable as I might 
have wished it ; but now that the peril was past, I began 
to consider how I could improve it. My feet gave 
me the most trouble. Every now and then my legs 
exhibited a tendency to get tired and let go their hold, 
and then I dropped back to my hanging attitude again. 

This was unpleasant and somewhat dangerous, but I 
did not allow it to vex me long. There was a cure for 
this, like everything else, and I soon discovered it. I 
split up the legs of my pantaloons quite to the knees, — 
as good luck would have it they were corduroy like the 


N 


A STATE OF “SUSPENSE.'" 


rj 

jackol, — and then taking the two long pieces that hung 
down, I gave them a twist or two, passed them round 
the post, and knotted them together on the opposite 
side. This furnished a rest for the lower half of m^ 
body ; and thus, half sitting, Imlf hanging, I passed the 
remainder of the night. 

When I tell you that I saw the tide go out, and leave 
the rocks bare, you will think I surely released myself 
from my perch, and got down upon the reef. But I did 
nothing of the kind. I had no idea of trusting myself 
on those rocks again if I could help it. 

I was not comfortable where I was, but still I could 
endure it for a while longer ; and^I feared to make any 
alteration in the premises lest I might have to use them 
again. Moreover, I knew that where I was I should 
very likely be seen from the shore as soon as the day 
broke, and then relief would be sure to be sent to me. 

And it was sent, or came without any sending. 
Scarcely was the red Aurora above the water-line, 
when I perceived a boat making towards me with all 
speed ; and as soon as it drew near, I saw, what I had 
guessed long before, that it was Harry Blew himself that 
was handling the oars. 

I shall not tell you how Harry acted when he came 
up ; how he laughed, and shouted, and waved his oar- 
blade in the air ; and then how kindly and gently he 
lowered me down, and laid me in his boat ; and when ! 
told him the whole story, and how his boat had gone to 
the bottom, instead of being angry with me, he only 
laughed, and said it was well it had been no worse; 
and from that day not a syllable of reproach ever passed 
his lips — ^not a word about the lost dingy. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


FOR PERU to-morrow! 

Even this narrow escape had no eflfect. I was not 
more afraid of the water than ever; but rather hked 
it all the more on account of the very excitement which 
its dangers produced. 

Very soon after I began to experience a longing to 
see foreign lands, and to travel over the great ocean 
itself. I never cast my eyes out upon the bay, that 
this yearning did not come over me ; and when I saw 
ships with their white sails, far off upon the horizon, I 
used to think how happy they must be who were on 
board of them; and I would gladly have exchanged 
places with the hardest working sailor among their 
crews. 

Perhaps I might not have felt these longings so 
intensely, had I been happy at home — that is, had I 
been living with a kind father and gentle mother ; but 
my morose old uncle took little interest in me ; and 
there being, therefore, no ties of filial affection to attach 
me to home, my longings had full play. I was com- 
pelled to do a good deal of work on the farm, and this 
was a sort of life for which I had no natural liking. 

The drudgery only increased my desire to go abroad 


FOR PERU TO-MORROW I 81 

— to behold the wonderful scenes of which I had read 
in books, and of which I had received still more glow- 
ing accounts from sailors, who had once been fishermen 
in our village, and who occasionally returned to visit 
their native place. These used to tell us of lions, and 
tigers, and elephants, and crocodiles, and monkeys as 
big as mei, and snakes as long as ships’ cables — until 
their exciting stories of the adventures they had ex- 
perienced among* such creatures, filled me^with an en- 
thusiastic desire to see with my own eyes these rare 
animals, and to take part in the chasing and capturing 
of them as the sailors themselves had done. In short, 
I became very tired of the dull monotonous life which 
I Avas leading at home, and which I then supposed was 
peculiar to our own country — for, according to our 
sailor-visitors, in every other part of the world there 
was full store of stirring adventures, and wild animals, 
and strange scenes. ■" - 

One young fellow, I remember, who had only been 
as far as the Isle of Man, brought back such accounts 
of his adventures among blacks and boa-constrictors, that 
I .quite envied him the exciting sports he had there 
witnessed. Though, for certain reasons, I had been 
well schooled in writing and arithmetic, yet I had but 
a slight knowledge of geography, as it was not a prom- 
inent branch of study in our school. I could scarce tell, ' 
therefore, where the Isle of Man lay ; but I resolved, 
the first opportunity that offered, that I should make a 
voyage to it, and see some of the wonderful sights of 
which the young fellow spoke. 

Although this, to me, would have been a grand under- 
taking, yet I was not without hopes of being able ta 

4 * 


i 


82 THE BOY TAR. 

accomplish it. I knew that upon odd occasions a 
schooner traded from our port to this famed island, 
and I believed it possible, some time or other, to get a 
passage in her. It might not be so easy, but I was 
resolved to try what could be done. I had made up my 
mind to get on friendly terms with some of the sailors 
belonging to the schooner, and ask them to take me 
along with them on one of their trips. 

While I was patiently waiting and watching for this 
opportunity, an incident occurred that caused me to form 
new resolutions, and drove the schooner and three 
legged island quite out of my head. 

About fivb miles from our little village, and further 
down the bay, stood a large town. It was a real sea- 
port, and big ships came there — great three-masted 
vessels, that traded to all parts of the world, and car- 
ried immense cargoes of merchandise. 

One day I chanced to have been sent there, along 
with a farm servant of my uncle, who drove a cart full 
of farm produce which he was taking to the town for 
sale. I was sent to assist him, by holding the horse 
while he was engaged disposing of the contents of the 
cart. 

It happened that the cart was drawn up near one of 
the wharves where the shipping lay, so that I had a fine 
opportunity of looking at the great leviathans of vessels 
moored along the quay, and admiring their tall slender 
masts and elegant rigging. 

There was one ship directly opposite to us that par- 
ticularly attracted my admiration. She was larger than 
any that was near, and her beautifully tapering masts 
rose higher by several feet than those of any other 


FOR PERU — to-morrow! 


83 


ressel in the port. But it was neither her superior 
§ize nor her more elegant proportions that fixed' my 
attention so earnestly upon her — though these had ^at 
first attracted it. What rendered her so interesting in 
my eyes was the fact that she was about to sail ver^ 
soon — upon the following day. This fact I learnt from 
a large board, which I saw fastened in a conspicuous 
place upon her rigging, and upon which I read the 
following : — 

“The Inca — for Peru — To-morrow” 

My heart began to thump loudly against my ribs, as 
il’ some terrible danger was near, but it was only the 
emotion caused by the wild thoughts that rushed into 
my mind as I read the brief but stirring announcement 
— “For Peru, to-morrow T 

Quick as lightning ran my reflections, all having their 
origin in the question, self-asked — why cannot I start 
“ for Peru, to-morrow ? ” 

Why not ? 

There were grand impediments, and many of them ; 
I knew that, well enough. First,There was my uncle’s 
servant, who was by my side, and whose duty it was to 
take me home again. Of course, it would have been 
preposterous to have asked his consent to my going. 

Secondly, there was the consent of the people of the 
ship to be obtained. I was not so innocent as to be 
ignorant of the fact, that a passage to Peru, or to any 
other part of the world, was a thing that cost a great 
deal of money ; and that even little boys like myself 
i^ould not be taken without paying. 

As I had no money, or not so much’ as v.'ould have 


84 


THE BOY TAR. 


paid for a passage in a ferry-boat, of course this diflS* 
culty stared me m the face, very plainly. How was 1 
to get passage ? 

As I liave said, my reflections ran as quick as light* 
ning, and before I had gazed for a dozen minutes upon 
that beautiful ship, the impediments, both of the paS" 
sage-money and the guardianship of the farmer’s man, 
vanished from my thoughts ; and I had come to the 
determination, with full belief in being able to carry it 
out, that I should start for Peru to-morrow. 

- In what part of the world Peru lay, I knew no more 
than the man in the moon ; not near so much, since he 
has a good view of it on moonlight nights, and must 
know very well where it is. My school' learning had 
extended no farther than to reading, writing, and arith- 
metic. In the last I was quite an adept, for our village 
teacher was rather clever at “ ciphering,” and took great 
pride in proving his accomplishment, by communicating 
what he knew to his pupils. It was the leading branch 
of study in his school. Geography, however, had been 
neglected — almost untaught — and I knew not in what 
part of the world Peru lay, though I had heard that 
there was such a country. 

The returned sailors already mentioned had spoken 
much about Peru — that it was a very hot country, 
and a very long way from England, a full six mouths’ 
voyage. I had heard, moreover, that it was a country ' 
of wonderful gold mines, and blacks, and snakes, and 
palm-trees ; and this was enough for me. It was just 
the sort of place I desired to see. For Peru, then, was 
I bound, and in the good ship “ Inca.” 

My next reflection was, how I should act — how gei 


FOK PERU — to-morrow! 

over the difficulty about the passage-money, anl also 
escape from the guardianship of my friend “John,” the 
driver of the cart. The former would appear the 
greater dilemma, though in reality it was no such thing ; 
at least, so I thought at the time. My reasons for think- 
ing so were these : I had often heard of boys running 
away to sea — of their being accepted on board ships, 
and allov;ed to become boy-sailors and afterwards able 
seamen. I was under the impression that there was 
not much difficulty about the matter, and that almost 
any boy who was big enough and smart enough would 
be taken aboard, if he was but willing to work for it. 

My only apprehension at the time was about my own 
bigness, or rather “ littleness,” for I knew that I was 
still but a very small shaver — smaller even than my 
age would indicate — though I had a well-knit frame, 
and was tolerably tight and tough. I had some doubt, 
however, about my size, for I was often “ twitted ” with 
being such a very little fellow. I was fearful, therefore, 
that this might be an obstacle to my being taken as a 
boy -sailor ; for I had really made up my mind to offer 
myself as such on board the “ Inca.” 

- With regard to “ John,” my apprehensions were very 
great. On the first impulse, I thought of no other plan 
than to give him the slip, and leave him to go home 
without me. After a little reflection, I perceived that ^ 
that course would never do. John would be back in 
the morning with half a dozen of his kind — and per 
haps my uncle himself — in quest of me. They would 
most likely arrive before the ship should sail, for vessels 
rarely take their departure at an early hour , in the 
morning. The bellman would raise the hue and cry 


86 , 


THE BOY TAR. 


The whole town would be traversed, and perhaps th« 
ship searched, where, of course, I should be found, de- 
livered up, carried home, and, beyond doubt, severely 
whipped ; for I knew ray uncle’s disposition well enough 
to believe that that would most certainly be the wind- 
up of the adventure. No, no, it would never do to let 
John and his cart go home without me. 

A little reflection convinced me of this, and at the 
same time helped me to resolve upon a better plan. 
The new resolve was to go back along with my guar- 
dian John, and then take my departure from home 
itself. 

Without imparting aught of my design, or making 
John in any way my confidant, I mounted into the cart 
along with him, and rode back to the village. I reached 
home as quietly, and apparently as little concerned about 
anything that was passing in my mind, as when I had 
left it in the morning. ■ 


CHAPTER XV. 


RUNNING AWAY. 

It was near night when we arrived at the farm ; and 
I took care during the remainder of the evening to act 
as naturally as if there was nothing unusual in my 
thoughts. Little dreamt my relatives and the domes- 
tics of the farm-house — little dreamt they of the big 
design that lay hid within my bosom, and which at in- 
tervals, when I reflected upon it, caused my heart to 
heave again. 

There were moments when I half repented of my 
purpose. When I looked upon the familiar faces of 
home — for after all it was home — the only home I 
had — when I reflected that I might never see those 
faces again ; when I reflected that some of them might 
grieve for me — some, I knew, wotdd grieve — when 
I pondered upon the deception I was practising upon 
all of them, I in full possession of a design of which 
they knew nothing ; I say when these thoughts were in 
my mind, I half repented of my purpose. I would 
have given the world for a confidant, while thus waver- 
ing ; and no doubt, had I had one who would have ad- 
vised me against going, I should have remained at home 
— at least, tor that time — though, in the end, my way* 


88 


THE BOY TAR. 


ward and aquatic nature would have carried me to sea 
all the same. 

You will no doubt think it strange that under these 
circumstances I did not seek out Harry Blew, and take 
his advice. Ah ! that is just what I should have done, 
had Harry been within reach, but he was not ; the young 
waterman was a 'waterman no more. He had become 
tired of that sort of life months ago, had sold his boat^ 
and gone off as a regular sailor before the mast. Per- 
haps if Harry Blew had been still at home, I should 
not have so much wished to go abroad ; but-from the 
time that he left, I longed every day to follow his ex* 
ample ; and whenever I looked seaward over the bay, it 
was with a yearning that it would be impossible to ex- 
plain. A prisoner, looking through the bars of his 
prison, could not have felt a greater longing to be free, 
than I to be away, far away, upon the bosom of the 
bright ocean. Had the young waterman only been 
there to counsel me, perhaps I might have acted differ- 
ently ; but he, my best friend, was gone. 

And now I had no confidant to whom I might impart 
my secret. There was one young fellow, a farm servant, 
whom I thought I might have trusted. I was fond of 
him, and I believe I was a favorite with him as well. 
Twenty times I had it on my tongue’s end to tell him oi 
my intention, but as often I checked myself. I did not 
fear that he would betray me, provided I gave up my 
design of running away ; but I fancied he would advise 
me against it, and in the event of my persisting, then he 
might betray me. It would be of no use therefore, seek* 
ing counsel from him, and I kept the design to myself. 

I ate my supper and went to bed as usual. 


RUNNING AWA-i 


89 


You will expect to hear that I got out of bed and 
stole away in the night. 

Not so. I kept my bed till the usual hour for rising, 
though I slept scarce a wink. The thought of my im- 
portant purpose kept me awake, and during the few 
snatches of sleep I had, I dreamt of big ships and roll- 
ing seas, of climbing up tall masts, and dragging black, 
tarry ropes, till my fingers were in blisters. 

I had at first partly made up my mind to take my 
departure in the night, which I could easily have ef- 
fected without danger of disturbing any one. There 
were no burglars in our quiet little village, nor had any 
been heard of for .years, so that most people left their 
outside doors on the latch. The door of my uncle’s 
house was on that night particularly free of egress, for, 
it being summer, and the weather extremely hot, it had 
been left “ on the jar.” I could have slipped out with 
out causing it even to creak. 

But though so very young, I was not without some 
powers of ratiocination ; and I reasoned that if I ran 
away in the night, I should be missed at an early hour 
of the morning, and consequently sought for. The 
searchers, or some portion of them, would be pretty 
certain to follow me to the seaport town, and find me 
there as a matter of course. I should be in no better 
position than if I had given John the slip on the pre- 
ceding day. Moreover, it was but five or six miles to 
the town — 1 should go over the ground in two hours 
at most — I should arrive too early, before the people 
of the ship would be stirring — the captain would be 
abed, and therefore I could not see him to offer myself 
as a volunteer in his service. 


90 


THE BOY TAR, 


Tliese were the considerations that induced me to 
remain at home until morning — although I waited im- 
patiently for the hour. 

I ate my breakfast along with the rest. Some one 
observed that I looked pale and “ out of sorts.” John 
attributed it to my journey of the preceding day, under 
the hot sun ; and this explanation seemed to satisfy 
every one. 

After breakfast I was afraid I should be ordered to 
some work — such as driving a horse, from which I 
might not easily get off — -some one might be set to a 
task along with me, who might report me too soon if I 
should absent myself. Fortunately there was no work 
fit for me on that particular day, and I was not ordered 
about anything. 

Taking advantage of this, I brought out my sloop, 
which I was occasionally in the habit of amusing my- 
self with during hours of leisure. There were other 
boys who had sloops, and schooners, and brigs, and we 
used to have races over the pond in the park. It was 
Saturday. There was no school on Saturday, and I 
knew that some of these boys would repair to the pond 
as soon as they had breakfasted, if not sooner. This 
would be a capital excuse for my going there ; and 
with the sloop ostentatiously carried, I passed through 
the farm-yard, and walked in the direction of the park, 
I even entered the enclosure, and proceeded to the pond, 
where, as I bad conjectured, I found several of ro_y 
companions with their little ships going in full sail. 

“ Oh,” thought I, “ if I were to declare my inten- 
tions ! what a stir it would make if the toys only knew 
what I was about tc do with myself? ” 


RUNNING AWAY. 


91 


I was welcomed by the boys, who seemed glad to see 
me once more among them. The reason of this was, 
that of late I had been kept almost constantly at work, 
and found but few occasions when I could join them at 
play, and I believe I had formerly been a play favorite 
with most of them. 

But I remained among them only during the time in 
which the fleet made one voyage across the lake — a 
miniature regatta, in which my own sloop was con- 
queror — and taking the little vessel under my arm, I 
bade them good day, and left them. 

They wondered at my going away so abruptly, but I 
found some excuse that satisfied them. 

As I crossed the park wall,'' I glanced back upon the 
companions of my childhood, and the tears ran down 
my cheeks as I turned away from them forever. 

I crouched along the wall, and soon got into the high- 
road that led from our village to the seaport town. I 
did not remain upon the road, but crossed it, and took 
into the fields on the opposite side. My object in doing 
this was to get under cover of some woods that ran for 
a good distance nearly parallel to the direction of the 
road. Through these I intended to travel, as far as 
they would screen me from observation — for I knew 
that -if I kept on the road I should run the chance of 
being passed or met by some ‘of the villagers, who 
would report having seen me, and thus guide the pur- 
suit in the right direction. I could not guess at what 
hour the ship might weigh anchor, and therefore I could 
not make my time for absenting myself from the vil- 
lage. This had been the thought that troubled me all 
the morning. . I feared to arrive too soon — lest the 


92 


THE BOY TAR. 


vessel might not sail until I should be missed, and peo* 
pie sent after me. On the other hand, I dreaded lest I 
might reach the port too late, and find the ship gone. 
This M^ould have been a disappointment worse than to 
be taken back, and whipped for the attempt at running 
away — at least, so I should have considered it at the 
time. 

I say, then, that this was the thought that had an- 
noyed me all the morning, and still continued to do so 
— for it no longer occurred to me that there was any 
danger of my being refused once I offered myself on the 
ship. I had even forgotten that I was so small a boy. 
The magnitude of my designs had magnified me, in 
my own estimation, to the dimensions of a man. 

I reached the woods, and traversed them from end to 
end unseen. I met neither ranger nor gamekeeper. 
When I had passed through the timber, I took into 
some fields ; but I was now at a good distance from the 
road, and I was less afraid of meeting any one who 
knew me. I could tell how far I was from the road, 
by keeping the sea in sight — for I knew that the former 
ran close to the beach. 

The tall spires of the seaport town at length came in 
sight, and by these I was enabled to guide myself in the 
proper direction. 

After crossing a great many drains and ditches, and 
scrambling through numerous hedges — here and there 
making a bit upon private roads that ran in the right 
course — I arrived on the outskirts of the town. I 
made no pause there, but directing my steps among the 
houses, I soon found a street that led towards the quay 
I saw the 'tall masts as I approached, and wildly beal 


RUNNING AWAY. 


93 


my heart as my eyes rested upon the tallest of all, with 
its ensign drawn up to the main truck, and floating 
proudly in the breeze. 

I took note of nothing more,; but, hurrying forward, 
I scrambled over the broad plank staging ; and having 
crossed the gangway stood upon the deck of the 
“Incju” 



CHAPTER XV'l. 


THE INCA ” AND HER CREW. 

On crossing the gangway, I stopped near the main 
hatchway, where five or six sailors were busy with a 
large pile of barrels and boxes. I saw that they were 
lading the vessel, and with a tackle were lowering the 
barrels and boxes into the hold. They were in their 
shirt-sleeves, some with Guernsey frocks and wide can- 
vas trousers, smeared with grease and tar. One among 
*hem wore a blue cloth jacket, with trousers of sim- 
material, and it occurred to me that he might be 
the mate — for I fancied that the captain of such a big 
ship must be a very grand individual, and very superbly 
dressed. 

He with the blue jacket was constantly giving orders 
and directions to the sailors at work, which I noticed 
were not always promptly obeyed ; and frequently the 
men might be heard suggesting contrary modes of ac- 
tion, until a hubbub of voices would arise disputing 
about the proper plan for executing the work. 

All this would have been different on board a man 
of-war, where the order of an officer is instantly obeyed 
without question or remark ; but on a merchant vessel 
it is far otherwise. The orders of the mate are often 
issued more as counsels than commands, and the men 


95 


THE “ INC 4 ” AND HER CREW. 

exercise a sort of discretion in obeying them. liJs is 
not always the case, and depends very much on the 
character of the mate himself ; but on board the 
Inca ” the discipline did not appear to be of the strict- 
est What with the clatter of tongues, the “ skreek- 
ing'^ of pulley-blocks, the rattling of boxes against 
each other, the bundling of trucks over the staging, 
and other like sounds, there was more noise than I had 
ever heard in my life. It quite disconcerted me at 
first; ‘and I stood for some minutes in a state of half 
bewilderment at what I heard and saw. 

After a while there was a sort of lull. The great 
water-butt that the sailors had been lowering down the 
hatchway had reached the hold below, and been rolled 
into its place, and this produced a temporary cessation 
in the noises. 

Just then one of the sailors chanced to set his eyes 
upon me ; and, after regarding me with a comic leer, 
cried out — 

Ho ! my little marlin-spike ! What might you be 
wantin’ aboard ? — goin’ to ship, eh ? ” 

“No,” rejoined a second; “don’t yer see he’s a 
captain hisself? — got his own craft there!” 

This remark was made in allusion to my schooner 
which I had brought along with me, and was holdings in 
my hands. 

“ Schooner ahoy ! ” shouted a third of the men. 
“Whither bound?” 

This was followed by a burst of laughter from all 
hands, who were now aware of my presence, and stood 
regarding me as though I was scmething extremely 
ludicrous in their eyes. 


96 


THE BOY TAR. 


I was rather abashed by this reception on the pari 
of the rough tars, and remained for some moments 
without knowing what to say or do. But I was relieved 
from my uncertainty by the mate in the blue jacket, 
who, approaching me, asked, in a more serious tone, 
what was my business aboard. 

I replied that I wanted to see the captain. Of course 
I believed that there was a captain, and that he was 
the proper person to whom I should address myself 
in regard to the business I had in view. 

“ Want to see the captain ! ” echoed my interrogator. 

“ And what might be your business with him, young- ^ 
ster ? Tm the mate — won’t I do ? ” 

I hesitated a moment; but seeing that it was the 
captain’s representative who put the question, I thought 
there could be no harm in frankly declaring my inten- 
tions. I replied — 

“ I wish to be a sailor ! ” 

If the men had laughed loud before, they now laugh- 
ed louder. In fact there was a regular yell, in which 
the mate himself joined as heartily as any of them. 

Amidst the peals of laughter, my ears were greeted 
with a variety of expressions that quite humiliated 
me. 

“ Look yonder. Bill ! ” cried one, addressing a com- 
rade who was at some distance. “Look at the wee 
chap as wants to be a sailor. My eyes ! You little 
tuppence worth o’ ha’pence, you ain’t big enough for a 
belayin’ pin ! A see-a-lor ! My eyes ! ” 

“ Does your mother know yer out ? ” inquired a 
«econd. 

“ No, that she don’t,” said a third, making reply for 


THE “INCA” and her CREW. 


97 


me ; ‘ nor his father, neyther I’ll warrant, now, tht 
chap has run a way from home. Have you gi'n ’em the 
slip, little sticklebat ? ” 

“ Look here, youngster ! ” said the mate. “ Take my 
advice : go back to your mother, give my compliments 
to the old lady, and tell her to take a turn or two of her 
petticoat strings round you, belay them to the leg of a 
chair, and keep you safe moored there for half a dozen 
years to come ! ” 

This advice elicited a fresh peal of laughter. 

I felt humiliated at this rough bantering, and knew 
not what reply to make. In my confusion I stammered 
out the words — 

I have no mother to go home to ! 

This reply appeared to produce a sudden effect upon 
the mirth of these ru de-looking men, and I could hear 
some of them give utterance to certain expressions 
of sympathy. 

Not so, however, the mate, who, without changing 
his tone of banter, instantly rejoined — 

“ Well, then, go to your father, and tell him to give 
you a good flogging ! ” 

“ I have no father ! ” 

“ Poor little chap ! it’s a horphin arter all ! ” said one 
oi the tars, in a kind tone. 

“ No father either, you say,” continued the mate, who 
appeared to me an unfeeling brute ; “ then go to your 
gjcandmother, or your uncle, or your aunt, if you’ve got 
one ; or go anywhere you like, but get about your 
business from here, or I’li trice you up, and give 
you a round dozen on the buttocks ~ be off now, 
I say!” 


6 


THE BOY TAK. 


98 

The brute seemed fully in earnest ; and, deeply 
mortified by the threat, I turned away in obedience to 
the command. 

I had reached the gangway, and was about to step 
upon the plank, when I observed a man coming in the 
opposite direction — from the shore. He was dressed 
in the same style as a merchant or other cftizen might 
have been, with a black frock-coat and beaver hat ; but 
there was something in his look that told me he be- 
longed to the sea. The complexion of his face was 
of that weather bronze, and there was an expression in 
the eyes, which I knew to be characteristic of men who 
lead the life of the mariner. Moreover, his trousers 
were of blue pilot-cloth, and that gave him a seafaring 
look. It struck me at the moment that he was the 
captain of the ship. — 

I was not long in doubt. On reaching the gangway, 
the stranger stepped aboard with an air that betokened 
him the master ; and I heard him issue some orders in 
a tone that bespoke his full command of everybody 
within hearing. 

He did not stop after going aboard, but walked ou 
towards the quarter-deck of the vessel. 

It occurred to me that I might still have some chance 
by addressing myself directly to him ; and, without 
hesitation, I turned back and followed him. 

In spite of some~remonstrance from the mate and one 
or two of the men, I kept on till I had overtaken the 
captain just as he was about to dive down into his 
cabin. 

I arrested his attention by jducking the skirt of his 
coat. 


THE “ INCA” and her CREW. 


99 


He turned round in some surprise, and inquired what 
I wanted with him. 

In as few words as I could manage it, I made known 
my wishes. The only reply he made me was a laugh ; 
and then turning-round, he cried out to one of the 
men — 

Heie, Waters ! Hoist this urchin upon your 
ahoulders, and set him ashore. Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” 

Without saying another word, he stepped down the 
companion ladder, and disappeared out of my sight. 

In the midst of my chagrin, I felt myself lifted in the 
strong arms of “ Waters,” who, after carrying me across 
the staging-plank, and some yards over the wharf, 
deposited me upon the pavement, and thus addressed 
me : — 

“Now, my little sprat! take Jack Waters’s advice, 
and keep out o’ salt water as long as you can, else the 
sharks may get hold on you.” 

And then, after ‘a pause, during which he seemed to 
reflect about something, he inquired — 

“ And you’re a horphin, are ye, my little ’un ? Got 
neyther father nor mother ? ” 

“ Neither,” I replied. 

“ A pity it are 1 I was once a horphin myself. Well, 
yer a spunky little chap to be wantin’ to go to sea, and 
ye deserve somethin’ for it. If I were captain I’d 
take you along ; but ye see I’m only afore the mast, 
and kin do nothin’ for ye ; but I’ll be back some day 
again, and maybe you’ll be bigger then. Here, take 
this anyhow for a keepsake, and by it you’ll remember 
me till sometime when you see me in port again, and 
who knows but thsn I may find a berth for you. So 


THE BOY TAR. 


lOO 

good-bye now ! Go home again, like a good boy, and 
stay there till youVe growed a bit.” 

As the kind-hearted sailor said this, he handed me 
nis knife, and turning away, walked back on board his 
ship, leaving me alone upon the wharf. 

Wondering at his unexpected kindness, I stood 
gazing after him till he disappeared behind the bul- 
warks ; and then, mechanically putting the knife in my 
pocket, I remained for a while without stirring from 
the spot. 


4 


CHAPTER Xm 


NOT BIG enough! 

Mt reflections were anything but pleasant, for never 
had I been so mortified in my life. All my fine dreams 
of reefing topsails, and seeing foreign lands, had been 
dissipated in a period of less than ten minutes. All my 
plans completely frustrated. 

My first feeling was that of extreme humiliation and 
shame. I fancied that the passers-by must all be aware 
of what had transpired, and of the precise situation in 
which I stood. I saw, moreover, the heads of several 
of the sailors as they stood looking at me over the bul- 
warks, and upon their faces I could perceive a derisive 
expression. Some of them were still laughing loudly. 

I could bear it no longer, and without hesitation I 
hurried away from the spot. 

Near at hand were large boxes, barrels, md bales of 
merchandise lying upon the wharf. They were not 
piled together, but scattered about, with spaces between 
them. Into one of those spaces I glided, and was soon 
out of sight of everybody, while everybody was equally 
hidden from my sight. I felt almost as if I had got 
clear of some danger ; so pleasant is it to escape from 
ridicule, even though one may fee! that he has not de 
served it 


102 


THE BOY TAR. 


There was a little box among the othero, just 
enough for a seat, and upon this I sat down, and gave 
way to reflection. 

What had I best do ? Yield up all thoughts of the 
sea, and return to the farm, and my crabbed old uncle? 

You will say that this would have been the wisest 
course for me to have pursued, as well as the most 
natural. Perhaps so ; but the thought of doing so 
scarcely entered my mind. I did certainly entertain 
the thought, but as quickly abandoned it. 

“ No,” said I to myself, “ I am not yet conquered ; I 
shall not retreat like a coward. I have made one step, 
and I shall follow it up, if I can. What matters it if 
they refuse to take me in this big proud ship ? There 
are others in port — scores of others. Some of them 
may be glad to have me. I shall try them all before 
I give up my design. 

“Why did they refuse me?” I asked myself, con- 
tinuing my soliloquy. “ Why ? They gave no reason ; 
what could it have been ? Ha ! my size it was ! They 
compared me to a marlinespike, and a belaying-pin. 
I know what a marlinespike is, and a belaying-pin, too. 
Of course, they meant by this insulting comparison to 
insinuate that I am too small to be a sailor. But a 
boy -sailor — surely I am big enough for that? I have 
heard of sailor-boys not so old as I am. What size am 
I ? How tall, I should like to know ? Oh ! if I only 
had a carpenter’s rule I would soon settle that point ! 
How thoughtless of me not to have measured myself 
before leaving home ! Can I not do it here ? I won* 
der if there is no way of finding out how tall I am,’ 

The current of my reflections was at this moment 


NOT BIG enough! 


10 . 


broken in upon, by my observing on one of the boxes 
some figures roughly scratched with chalk, and on 
closer inspection I made out the cipher to be “ 4 ft.” 
T saw at once that it referred to the length of the box, 
for its height could not have been so much. Perhaps 
it had been thus marked by the carpenter who made 
the case, or it may have been put on to guide the 
sailors in lading the vessel. 

Be that as it may, it gave me an idea ; and in less 
than three minutes I knew my stature to an inch. 

I ascertained it in the following manner: — I laid 
myself down alongside the box, and close in to its edge. 
Having placed my heels on a level with one end, I 
stretched myself out to my full length. I then felt 
with my hand whether the crown of my head came 
flush with the other end of the case. It did not, though 
there was scarce an inch wanting to make me as long 
as the box ; but wriggle and stretch my joints as I 
might, I could not get more than square with it. Of 
course, it made no difference — as far as determining 
my height was concerned; if the box was four feet 
long, I could not be quite four feet ; and as I knew a 
boy of only four feet in height was but a very small 
boy indeed, I rose to my legs, considerably mortified by 
the knowledge I had gained. 

Previous to this measurement, I really had no idea 
I was of such short stature. What boy does think 
himself much less than a man ? But now I was con- 
vinced of my littleness. No wonder Jack Waters had 
called me a sprat, and his comrades had compared me 
*0 a marlinespike and a belaying-pin. 

The knowledge I had gained of my Lilipulian statur« 


104 


THE BOY TAR. 


put me all out of heart with myself, and my designs 
now assumed a more gloomy aspect. I felt almost sure 
that none of the ships would receive me ; for I remem 
bered that I had never h'eard of boy-sailors so small as 
I was. Certainly I had never seen any ; but, on the 
contrary, some nearly as large as men, who were never- 
heless called “ boys ” on board the brigs and schooners 
that frequented our little harbor. It would be hopeless, 
then, for me to offer myself. After all, I should have 
to go home again. 

I once more sat down upon the box, and proceeded 
to reconsider the situation. My mind is rather of an 
inventive turn, and it had a bent that way even in 
earliest youth. It was not long before a plan offered 
itself that promised to relieve me from my dilemma, 
and enable me to carry out my original intention to its 
full extent. 

I was aided by memory in the conception of this 
plan. I remembered having both heard and read of 
boys — and men as well — concealing themselves aboard 
ships, and being thus carried out to sea; and then 
crawling forth from their hiding-places, when the ves- 
sels were too far from land for them to be sent 
back. 

The recollection of these daring adventurers had 
scarcely crossed my mind, before I had formed the 
resolution to follow their example. Quick almost as 
the thought, I had made my resolve. I could hide 
myself on board a ship — perhaps that very ship from 
which I had been so ignominiously expelled. She 
was the only one that appeared to be getting ready to 
sail; but, to tell the truth, had there been a dozen 


NOT BIO enough! 


105 


others starting at the same time, I should have selected 
her before them all. 

You may be surprised at my saying so, but it is easily 
explained. I was so piqued at the people on board, 
especially the mate, on account of the uncivil treatment 
he had shown me, that I felt at the time it would be a 
sort of revenge to play them this trick. I knew that 
they would not throw me overboard ; and with the 
exception of the mate himself, I had not noted any 
symptoms of a cruel disposition among the sailors. Of 
course it was natural they should have enjoyed a joke 
at my expense ; but I remembered, also, that some of 
them had uttered expressions of sympathy when they 
heard from me that I was an orphan. 

In the big ship, then, was I determined to have pas* 
sage — spite of mat 3, captain, imd crew ! 


CHAPTER XVIIl 


STEALING ABOARD. 

But how was I to get aboard ? How conceal my* 
self when there ? 

These were the difficulties that presented themselves 
I might walk on deck as I had already done, but not 
without being observed by some of the crew, and of 
course ordered ashore again. 

Could I net bribe some of the sailors to let me go 
about the deck? What had I to bribe them with? 
Not a penny of money. My sloop and my clothes — 
these last of very poor quality — were all I possessed 
in the world. I would have given the sloop, but a 
moment’s reflection convinced me that no sailor would 
set any value on an article which he could easily make 
for himself ; for I presumed that all sailors could manu- 
facture little ships at their pleasure. It would be use- 
less to attempt bribing any of them with such a toy 
and I thought no more of it. 

But stay ! I had something upon my person of some 
value — I had a watch. It is true it was but a very 
common one — an old-fashioned silver watch, and not 
worth much, though it kept, time well enough. It had 
been given me by my poor mother, though she had left 


STEALING ABOaRD. 


107 


me a much better one, which my uncle had appropri- 
ated to himself. The old one, of little value, I was 
allowed to carry about with me, and fortunately it was 
in my fob at that moment. Would not this bribe 
Waters, or some other of the sailors, to “ smuggle ” me 
aboard, and conceal me there till the ship got out te 
sea? The thing was not unlikely. At all risks, I 
resolved to make trial. 

Perhaps the chief difficulty would be to see Waters — 
or any of the sailors apart from the rest — in order to 
communicate my wishes ; but I resolved to hang about 
the ship, and watch till some one of them should come 
ashore alone. 

I was not without hopes that I might be able to steal 
on board of myself — perhaps after nightfall, when the 
men had “knocked off” work, and were below in the fore- 
castle. In that case, I need not tell any of them of my 
design. In the darkness, I believed I might manage to 
crouch past the watch, or clamber over the side and get 
down below. Once in the hold, I had no fear but that 
I should be able to secrete myself among so many bar- 
rels and boxes as they were stowing away. 

There were two doubts that troubled me. Would 
the ship remain in port until night ? Would my uncle 
and his people not be after me before then ? 

For the first, I was not very uneasy. I saw that the 
vessel still carried the same placard as on the preceding 
day — “ The Inca, for Peru, tomorrow ! ” It was not 
likely she would sail upon that day. Moreover, there 
were still many packages of merchandise lying on the 
quay — which I knew were intended as part of her 
lading, from the position in which they were placed. I 


( 08 . 


THE BOY TAB. 


had beard, moreover, that vessels, when bound for distant 
parts, are not very punctual in their time of starting. 

Reasoning in this way, I felt assured that the ship 
would not sail on that day, and I should have the 
chances of boarding her in the night time. 

But then there was the other danger — of my being 
captured and carried back home. On reflection, this 
did not appear imminent. They would not miss me on 
the farm before nightfall ; or if they did, they would 
wait until dark before going in search of me — thinking, 
of course, that night would bring me home. After all, 
I had no reason to be apprehensive from this source ; 
and ceasing altogether to think of it, I set about making 
preparations to carry out my design. 

I had foresight enough to perceive, that when once in 
the ship, I should have to remain concealed for at least 
twenty-four hours — perhaps much longer. I could not 
live so long without eating. Where was I to get provis- 
ions ? I had not — as already mentioned — one penny 
in the world, wherewith to purchase food, and I should 
not have known where or bow to beg for it. ^ 

But an idea came into my head that promised to re- 
lieve me from this dilemma. I could sell my sloop^ and 
thus obtain wherewith to buy something to eat. 

The little vessel would be of no more use to me now ; 
and why not part with her at once ? 

Without further consideration, therefore, I made my 
way out from among the barrels, and proceeded along 
the quay, to look out for a purchaser for my little craft. 

I soon succeeded in finding one. A sort of marine 
joyshop offered itself ; and after a little bartering with 
^he proprietor, I closed the liargain for a shilling. My 


STEALING ABOARD. 


109 


little sloop, neatly rigged as she was, was worth 
times the amount, and, under different circumstances, T 
would not have parted with her for even that sum ; but 
the Jew-dealer evidently saw that I was in difficulties, 
and, like all his tribe, had no scruples about taking 
advantage of them. 

I was now in ample funds for my purpose ; and re 
pairing to a convenient shop, I laid out the whole of 
the money on cheese and crackers. I bought sixpence 
worth of each ; and having crammed my pockets with 
my purchase, I returned to my old place among the 
merchandise, and seated myself once more upon the 
box. I had grown somewhat hungry — for it had got 
to be after dinner hour — and I now relieved my appe- 
tite by an attack upon the crackers and cheese, which 
considerably lightened the cargo in my pockets. 

Evening was now approaching, and I bethought me 
that I might as well take a stroll along by the side of 
the ship, by way of a reconnoissance. It would enable 
me to ascertain where I might climb over the side most 
easily, which knowledge would be of use to me when 
the hour should arrive for making the attempt. What 
if the sailors did see me going about ? They could not 
hinder me . from walking along the quay, and they 
would never dream of my object in staying there. 
What if they should take notice of me, and taunt me 
as before ? I could talk back l o them, and thus gain 
a good oppoil unity for observation — the very thing 1 
wanted. 

Without losing another moment, I stepped forth from 
my resting-place, and commenced sauntering along — . 
with an assumed air of indifference to all that was pass 


110 


THE BOY TAB. 


ing arouna. I soon came opposite the stem of the big 
ship,' where I paused and looked up. Her deck was 
nearly on a level with the pavement, because she was 
now heavily laden, and of course at full depth in the 
water ; but the higli bulwarks on her quarter prevented 
me from seeing the deck. I perceived that it would be 
easy to step from the quay, and after clambering up the 
bulwarks, get over by the mizzen shrouds ; and I at 
once made up my mind that this would be the proper 
way. Of course, I should have to creep through the 
shrouds with great 'caution. If the night should not 
prove dark enough, and I should be detected by the 
watch, it would be all up with me : I should get caught 
— perhaps suspected as a thief and punished. No mat- 
ter — I was resolved to risk it. 

Everything was quiet on board. I heard neither voice 
nor noises. Some of the merchandise was still lying 
upon the wharf, and therefore they could not have fin- 
ished lading the vessel. But the men were no longer 
at work, for I was now near enough to have a view of 
both the gangway and the main hatch. Whither could 
they have gone ? 

I moved silently forward, until I stood by the very 
end of the staging. I had now a full view of the hatch- 
way, and a considerable portion of the main deck around 
it. I saw neither the blue jacket of the mate nor the 
greasy garments of the sailors. All the men must have 
gone away to some other part of tlie ship. 

I paused and listened. Indistinctly, I could hear the 
hum of voices coming from the foi ward part of the ves 
sel. I knew they were the voices of the crew in cou 
versation with each other. ^ 

\ 


STEALING ABOARD. 


Ill 


Just at that moment, I observed a man pass by the 
opening in the gangway. He was carrying a large ves- 
sel that steamed at the top. It contained coffee or some 
other hot viand. It was the evening meal for the peo* 
pie of the forecastle, and he who carried it was the cook. 
This accounted for the cessation of the work, and the 
absence of the sailors from “ amidships.” They were 
about going to supper. Such was my conjecture. 

Partly impelled by curiosity, but as much by a new 
idea that entered my mind, I stepped upon the staging 
and glided cautiously aboard. I caught a glimpse of 
the sailors far off in the forward part of the ship — 
some seated upon the windlass, others squatted upon the 
deck itself, with their tin plates before them, and their 
jackknives in their hands. Not one of them saw me 
— not one was looking in my direction : their eyes were 
too busy with the cook and his steaming copper. 

I glanced hastily around ; there was no one in sight. 
The new idea to which I' have referred became more 
fully developed. “ Now or never ! ” whispered I to my- 
self; and under the impulse, I stepped down upon the 
deck, and crouched forward to the foot of the main- 
mast. ' ^ 

I was now on the edge of the open hatchway ; and 
it was into this I intended to go. There was no ladder, 
but the rope by which the goods had been lowered, still 
hung from the tackle, reaching down into the hold. 

I caught hold of this rope ; and pulled on it, to find 
if it was securely fastened above. It proved to be so ; 
and grasping it firmly with both hands. I slid downward 
as gently as I could. 

It was a close shave that I did not break my neck — » 


112 


\ 

THE isvY TAR. 

and as it was, I had a tumble at the bottom — but 1 soon 
got to my feet again ; and, scrambling over some pack- 
ages that were not yet stowed in their places, I crawled 
behind a huge butt, and there ensconced myself in dark* 
ness and silence. 



CHAPTER XIX. 


hurrah! we are off! 

As soon as I had screened myself behind the butt, a 
squatted down ; and, in' five minutes after, was so fast 
asleep, that it would have taken all the bells cf Can- 
terbury to have waked me. I had got but little sleep 
on the preceding night, and not a great deal the night 
before that ; for John and. I had been early up for the 
market. The fatigue, moreover, experienced in my 
cross-country journey, and the excitement of twenty- 
four hours’ suspense — now somewhat allayed — had 
quite done me up, and I slept as sound as a top, only 
that my nap lasted as long as that of a thousand tops. 

There had been noises enough to have awaked me 
much sooner, as I afterwards ascertained. There had 
been the rattling of pulleys and banging of boxes close 
to my ears, but I heard nothing of all this. 

Wlien I awoke, I knew by my sensations that I had 
been a long while asleep. It must be far into the night, 
thought I. I supposed it was night time by the com* 
plete darkness that enveloped me ; for on first squeezing 
myself behind the butt, I noticed that liglit came in by 
the aperture through which I had passed. Now there 
was none. It Avas night, therefore, and dark as pitch 


114 


THE BOY tar. 


— that, of course, behind a huge hogshead down in the 
hold of a ship. 

“ What time of night ? 1 suppose they have all gone 
to bed, and are now snug in their hammocks ? It must 
be near morning ? Can I hear any one stirring ? ” 

I listened. 1 had no need to listen intently. I soon 
heard noises. They were evidently caused by heavy 
objects striking and bumping, just as if the sailors were 
still busy lading the vessel. I could hear their voices, 
too, though not very distinctly. Now and then certain 
ejaculations reached me, and I could make out the words 
“ Heave ! ” “ Avast heavin’ ! ” and once the “Yo-heave- 
ho ! ” chanted by a chorus of the crew. 

“ Why, they are actually at work loading the vessel 
in the night time ! ” 

This, however, did not greatly surprise me. Perhaps , 
they wished to take advantage of a tide or a fair wind, 
and were hurrying to complete the stowage of the ship. 

1 continued to listen, expecting to hear a cessation of 
the noises ; but hour after hour passed, and still the 
clinking and clanking kept on. 

“ How very industrious ! ” thought I. “ They must 
be pressed for time, and determined to start soon. True, 
the placard ^For Pei'U — to-morrow ! ’ did not keep faith 
to-day, but no doubt it will do so to-morrow, at a very 
early hour. So much the better for me ; I shall the 
sooner get out of my uncomfortable situation. It’s 
rather a hard bed I’ve had, and I am, growing hungi'y 
again.” 

With this last reflection, I was very willing to make 
a fresh onset upon the cheese and crackers, ar d I ac- 
<'X)rdingly did so. I had found a fresh appetite during 


hurra! we are off! 


115 


my sleep, and I ate heartily, though it was the middU 
of the night / 

The noise of the lading still continued. “ Oh ! they 
are going to keep at it all night. Hard work it is, poor 
fellows ; but no doubt they will receive double wages 
for it.” 

All at once the sounds ceased and there was profound 
silence in the ship — at least I could hear no one stirring 
about. 

“ At last they have knocked off,” thought I ; “ they 
are now gone to bed ; but surely it must be near day- 
break — though day has not yet broken, else I should 
see some light through the aperture. Well ! I shall try 
to go to sleep again myself.” 

I laid me down as before and endeavored to compose 
myself to sleep. In about an hour’s time I had well- 
nigh succeeded in doing so, when the thumping of the 
boxes recommenced, and roused me up afresh. 

“ What ? they are at it again I Surely they cannot 
have been to sleep ? — an hour — it was not worth their 
while to lie down for an hour.” 

I listened to assure myself that they had really set 
about work again. There could be no doubt of it. I 
could hear the clinking and clanking, and the creaking of 
the pulley-blocks just as before, only not quite so loud. 

“ Well,” thought 1,"“ it is a strange crew, working 
thus all night long. Ha ! on second thoughts, perhaps 
it is a fresh set who are at it — another watch that hag 
relieved the former one ? ” 

This was probable enough and the conjecture satisfied 
me. But I could no more compose myself to sleep, and 
lay listening. 


116 


THE BOY TAR. 


Still they worked on, and I could hear the noisef 
through the longest night I ever remember. Several 
hours they had kept at it, and then there was a pause 
of about an hour, and then I heard the work progress- 
ing as before, and as yet there were no signs of morning 
— - not a ray of light came near me ! 

I began to fancy I was dreaming, and that those spells 
of work that seemed to last for hours were only of min- 
utes’ duration. And yet, if they were only minutes, I 
must have been gifted with a strange appetite, for no 
less than three times had I fallen ferociously upon my 
provisions, until my stock was wellnigh exhausted. 

At length the noises ceased altogether, and for several 
hours I did not hear them. During this interval there 
was almost complete silence above and around me, in 
the midst of which I again fell asleep. 

When I awoke, my ears were once more greeted with 
sounds, but these were quite of another character from 
those I had before been listening to. They were to me 
sounds of joy, for I at once recognized the well-known 
“ crik-crik-crik ” of a windlass, and the rattling of a 
great chain. Down where I was, in the hold, I did not 
hear these noises very distinctly, but enough so to know 
what was going on above. They were weighing the an- 
chor — the ship was about to sail! 

I could scarce restrain myself from giving a cheer ; 
but I managed to keep silence — fearing that m y voice 
might be heard. It was not yet time. If heard, 
I should be dragged forth, and sent packing without 
ceremony. I therefore lay as still as a mouse, and 
listened to the great chain harshly rasping through 
the iron rir.g of the hawse-hole. Harsh as it may have 


hurrah! we are off! 


117 


Bounded in other ears, it was music to mint at that mo- 
ment. 

The clicking and rasping both ceased after a while, 
and then another sound reached me. This resembled 
the rushing of a mighty wind, but I knew it was not 
that. I knew Jt was the “ sough ” of the sea agrdnst 
the sides of the vessel. It produced a delightful im- 
pression upon my mind, for it told me that th^ hig thip 
was in motion ! 

“ Hurrah ! we are off I ” 


CHAPTER XX. 


SEA-SICK. 

The continued motion of the vessel, and the seething 
sound of the water, which I could hear very plainly, 
convinced me that we had parted from the quay, and 
were moving onward. I felt completely happy ; there 
was no longer any fear of my being taken back to the 
farm. I was now fairly launched upon salt water, and 
in twenty-four hours would be out on the wide Atlantic 
• — far from land, and in no danger either of being pur- 
sued or sent back. I was in ecstacies of delight at the 
success of my plan. 

I thought it rather strange, their starting in the night 
— for it was still quite dark, — but I presumed they 
had a pilot who knew all the channels of the bay, and 
who could take them into the open water just as well 
by night as by day. 

I was still somewhat puzzled to account for the 
extreme length of the night, — that was altogether mys- 
terious, — and I began to think that I must have slept 
during the whole of a day, and was awake for two 
nights instead of one. Either that, or some of it must 
have been a dream. However, I w^as too much joyed 
at the circumstance of our having started, to speculate 


SEA-SICK. 


119 


apon the strangeness of the hour. It mattered not to 
me whether we had set sail by night or b} day, so long 
as we got safely out into the great ocean ; and I laid 
myself down again to wait until the time should arrive 
when I might safely show myself on deck. 

I was very impatient for the arrival of that crisis — 
and for two special reasons. One was^ that I had grown 
very thirsty, and longed for a drink. The cheese and 
dry crackers had helped to make me so thirsty. I was 
not hungry — for part of the provision was still left, 
but I would gladly have exchanged it for a cup of 
water. 

The other reason why I wanted to get out of my 
hiding-place was, that ray bones had become very sore 
from lying so long on the hard plank, and also from the 
cramped attitude I was compelled to assume, on account 
of the want of space. So full of pain did my joints feel, 
that I could hardly turn myself about ; and I felt even 
worse when I continued to lie still. This also strength- 
ened ray belief that I must have slept during the whole 
of a day — for a single night upon the naked timbers 
could hardly have tired me so much. 

What with the thirst, therefore, and the soreness of 
my bones, I kept fidgeting and wriggling about for 
several hours, without intermission. 

For these two reasons I was very impatient to crawl 
forth from my narrow quarters, and set my foot upon 
deck ; but for other reasons I deemed it prudent to 
endure both the thirst and the aching, and remain where 
I was for some time longer. 

I had sufficient knowledge of seaport customs to be 
aware tliat ships usually take a pilot a good way out to 


THE BOY TAll. 


120 

eea, and in all likelihood there was one on board 
Should I show myself before this functionary had been 
dismissed, I w'ould certainly be taken back in his pilot 
boat ; which, after all my success, and all my sufferings, 
would have been a humiliating result. 

Even had there been no pilot, we were yet in the 
track of fishing boats and small coasting vessels ; and 
one of these, inward bound, could easily be brought 
alongside, and I might be chucked into it like a coil 
of rope, and carried back to the port. 

These considerations passed through my mind, and 
despite the torment of thirst and the painful aching of 
ray joints, I remained within my lurking-place. 

For the first hour or two, the ship moved steadily 
ihrough the water. It was calm weather, I supposed, 
and she was yet within the shelter of the bay. Then I 
perceived that she began to sway a little to and fro, and 
the rushing of the water along her sides became hoarser 
and more violent. Now and then I could hear the loud 
bumping of waves as they struck against the bows, and 
the timbers creaked under the concussions. - 

These sounds were not displeasing. I reasoned that 
we had got out of the bay, and were passing-into the 
open sea, where I knew the wind was always fresher, 
and the waves larger and bolder. “ The pilot,” thought 
I, “ will soon be dismissed, and then I may safely show 
myself on deck.” 

Of course J was not without misgivings as to my 
reception by the people of the ship, — in truth, I felt 
serious apprehension upon that score. I remembered 
the harsh brutal mate, and the reckless indifferent crew 
They would be indignant at the deception I had prac 


SEA-SICK. 


121 


dsed upon them — perhaps treat me with cruelty — flog 
me, or commit some other outrage. I was far from 
being easy in my mind about how they would use me, 
and I would fain have avoided the encounter. 

But that was clearly impossible. I could not keep 
concealed for the whole voyage, for long weeks, ay, 
months, — I had no provisions, no water, and sooner or 
later I must go on deck, and take my chances. 

While speculating upon these chances, I began to 
feel very miserable, not with mental anguish "^alone, but 
with bodily pain. Worse than thirst it was, or_the 
soreness of my bones. A new misery was fast growing 
upon me. My head swam with dizziness, the sweat 
started from my brow, and 1 felt sick both at the heart 
and in the stomach. I experienced a suffocating sensa- 
tion in my breast and throat — as if my ribs were being 
compressed inwardly, and my lungs had not room 
enough to expand and let me breathe. My nostrils 
were filled with a nauseating smell, — the smell of 
“ bilge-water,” — for being at the bottom of the hold, I 
was close ^ to the latter, and could hear it “jabblin^” 
about under the timbers, where no doubt it had lain for 
a long time. In all these symptoms I had no difficulty 
in telling what ailed me : sea-sickness — notching more. 
Knowing this, I was not alarmed ; but yet I experienced 
horrid sensations, as every one must who is under the 
infliction of this peculiar malady. Of course I felt ten 
times worse, situated as I was, choking with thirst, and 
- no water near ; for I fancied that a glass of pure water 
would to some extent have relieved me; It might 
remove the nausea, and give me freer breath. I would 
have given anything for one moutbffil. 


122 


THE BOY TAR. 


In dread of that terrible pilot, I bore my aufftrings a** 
long as I could. But the rocking of the ship every 
moment became more violent, and the smell of the 
bilge-water more nauseous. In like proportion rose the 
revolt in my stomach, until the sickness and retching 
became quite unendurable. 

“ Surely the pilot must have gone back ? Whether 
or not, I can stand it no longer ; I must get upon deck, 
or I shall die, — oh ! ” 

I rose from my recumbent position, and began to 
grope my way along the side of the great butt. I 
reached the end of it,'and felt for the aperture by which 
I had squeezed myself in. To my great surprise, I 
found that it was closed up ! 

I could scarce credit ray senses, and I felt again and 
again, passing my hands upwards and downwards. Be- 
yond a doubt the aperture was shut up ! My hands 
met resistance everywhere, coming in contact with a 
perpendicular wall, which, I could tell by the “feel,” 
was the side of an immense box. It blocked up the 
interval between the butt and the side of the ship so 
completely, that there was not space enough on either 
side to thrust the point of my finger through. 

I placed my hands to the box in hopes of being able 
to push it away, but I could not move it. I laid my 
shoulder to it, and heaved with all the strength of my 
body, — I could not even sha^e it ! It was a large 
packing-case, no doubt filled with heavy goods. A 
strong man could scarce have stirred it from the spot, 
and my puny strength was altogether insufficient to 
move it. 

After an effort I desisted from trying, and crept back 


SEA-SICK. 


123 


along the side of the butt, hoping I might get out by 
the other end; but on reaching this, my hopes were 
dissipated in a moment. There was not the space of an 
inch between the rim of the great cask and anothei 
similar barrel, which filled the aperture up to the ribs 
of the vessel ! A mouse could hardly have squeezed 
itself through between. 

I next felt along the top of both casks, but with like 
result. There was just space in that direction to admit 
of passing my hand through, and no more. A huge 
beam, traversing along the top, was within a few inches 
of the rounded sides of the casks, and there was no 
aperture that would have permitted me — small as I 
was — to have squeezed myself through. 

I shall leave you to fancy my feelings when the con- 
viction broke upon me that I was actually shut in — 
imprisoned — himlt up among the merchmidisp, ! 


CHAPTER XXI. 


ENTOMBED ALIVE ! 

1 COULD noAV comprehend why the night had seemed 
80 long. There had been light enough, but it reached 
ne not. The great box had intercepted it. There had 
been day, and I knew it not. The men had been work- 
ing by day, when I thought it was after midnight. In- 
stead of a single night, at least two nights and a day 
had passed since I crouched into my hiding-place. No 
wonder I had hungered, and was thirsty — no wonder I 
felt an aching in my bones. The short intervals of 
silence I had observed were the hours when the crew 
were at their meals. The long silence that preceded 
the weighing of the anchor, had been the second night 
when all were resting and asleep. 

I have stated, that I fell asleep almost instantly after 
I had crept into my lurking-place. It then still wanted 
several hours of sunset. My sleep had been sound and 
long, lasting, no doubt, till the following morning. But 
on the previous evening, the stowers had been at work 
— though I heard them not; and during my deep, un 
conscious slumber, the box, and no doubt many others, 
had been placed before the aperture. 

Every point was now clear to me, and clearer than 
all was the horrifying fact that I was “ boxed up.‘ 


ENTOMBED ALIVE! 


125 


I did not at first comprehend the full horror of mj- 
situation. I knew that I was shut in, and that no 
strength I could exert would be enouglKto get me out ; 
^but for all that, I did not apprehend any great difficulty 
The strong sailors, who had stowed the packages, could 
remove them again ; and I had only to shout and bring 
them to the spot. 

Alas ! alas ! little did I think that the loudest shout I 
might raise could not have been heard by human being. 
Little did I suspect, that the hatchway, through which 1 
had descended to the hold, was now closed with its 
strong hatches, and these again covered with a thick 
tarpaulin — to remain so, perhaps, to the end of the 
voyage ! Even had the hatches not been down, there 
would have been little chance of my being heard. The 
thick wall of bales and boxes would have intercepted 
my voice, or it might have been drowned altogether by 
the hoarse and constant rushing of the waves, as they 
broke along the sides of the ship. 

I say, that, on first discovering that I "was closed in, 
my apprehensions were but slight. I thought, only, 
that I should be delayed awhile from getting water, 
which I now longed for exceedingly. It would take 
some time, no doubt, for the men to remove the boxes 
and relieve me ; and meanwhile I was in misery. 
These alone were the thoughts that tro abled me. 

It was only when I had screamed and shouted a1 the 
highest pitch of my voice, — after I had thundered upon 
the planks with the heels of my shoes, — after I had re 
peated my cries again and again, and still heard no re 
ply ; it was only then, that I began to comprehend the 
true nature of my situation. Then, indeed, did 1 per 


126 


THE BOY TAR. 


ceive its full and perfect horror. Then did the cor.vic* 
tion burst upon me, that I had no prospect of escape — 
no* hope of being relieved; in short — that I was in- 
tombed alivi / 

I cried, I screamed, I shouted. Long and loudly I 
cried, but how long I cannot tell. I did not leave off 
till I was weak and hoarse 

At intervals I listened, but no response reached me — 
no sound of human voice. The echoes of my own rever- 
berated along the sides of the ship, throughout the dark 
hold ; but no voice responded to its lamentable tones. 

I listened to discover whethel I could not hear the 
voices of the sailors. I had heard them in their chorus 
when they were weighing anchor, but then the ship was 
at rest, and the waves were not lashing her timbers. 
Moreover, as I afterwards learned, the hold hatches 
had then been up, and were only put down on our 
standing out to sea. 

For a long while I listened, but neither command 
nor chorus reached my ears. If I could not hear their 
loud baritone voices, how could they hear mine ? 

“ Oh ! they cannot hear me ! They will never hear 
me ! They will never come to my rescue ! Here I 
must die — I must die ! ” 

Such was my conviction, after I had shouted myself 
hoarse and feeble. The sea-sickness had yielded for a 
time to the more powerful throes of despair ; but the 
physical malady returned as-ain, and, acting in conjunc- 
tion with my mental misery, produced such agony as I 
never before endured. I yielded to it ; my energies 
gave way, and 1 fell over like one struck down by pa- 
ralysis. 


ENTOMBED ALIVE ! 


127 


For a long while I lay in a state of helpless stupor. 

I wished myself dead, and indeed I thought I was go- 
ing to die. I seriously believe, that at that moment 1 
would have hastened the event if I could ; but I was 
too weak to have killed myself, even had I been pro- 
vided with a weapon. I had a weapon, but I had for - 
gotten all about it in the confusion of my thoughts. 

You will wonder at my making this confession, — 
that I desired death ; but you would have to be placed 
in a situation similar to that I was in, to be able to real- 
ize the horror of despair. Oh, it is a fearful thing! 
May you never experience it 1 

I fancied I was going to die, but I did not. Men do 
not die either from sea-sickness or despair — nor boys 
neither. Life is not so easily laid down. 

I certainly was more than half dead, however, and 
I think for a good while insensible. I was in a stupor 
for a long time — for many hours. 

At length my consciousness began to return, and 
along with it a portion of my energies. Strange 
enough, too, I felt my appetite reviving ; for, in this 
respect, the “ sea-sickness ” is somewhat peculiar. Pa- 
tients, under it, often eat more heartily than at other 
times. With me, however, the appetite of thirst was 
now far stronger than that of hunger, and its misery 
was not allayed by any hope of its being appeased. As 
for the other, I could still relieve it; some morsels 
were in my pocket. 

I need not recount the many fearful reflections that 
passed through my mind. For hours after, I was 
the victim of many a terrible paroxysm of de.'pair. 
For, hours I lay, or rather tossed about, in a state 


128 


THE BOY TAR. 


of confused thought; but at last, to my relief, I feli 
asleep. 

I fell asleep, for I had now been a long time awake, 
and this, with the prostration of my strength from men- 
tal suffering, had at length deadened the nerve of pain 
so that despite all my misery, I fell asleep. 


CHAPTER XXn. 


THIRST, 

1 SLEPT neither very long, nor very soundly.' My 
sleep was full of dreams, all troubled and horrid ; but ■ 
not more horrid than the reality to which I once more 
awoke. 

After awaking, it was some time before I could think 
of where I was ; but on stretching out my arms, I was 
reminded of my situation ; "on every side the wooden 
walls of my prison were within reach, and I could 
touch them with my* fingers all around. I had little 
more, than room sufficient to turn myself in. Small as 
was my body, another as big as myself would almost 
have filled the space in which I was shut up. 

On again comprehending my fearful situation, I once 
more gave utterance to loud cries, — shouting and 
screaming at the very highest pitch of my voice. I 
had not yet lost all hope that the sailors might hear 
me ; for, as already stated, I knew not what quantity of 
merchandise might be stowed above me, nor did I think 
of the hatches of the lower deck being fastened down. 

Perhaps it was as well I did not know the whole truth, 
else the complete despair which the knowledge must 
have produced might have driven me out of my senses. 
As it was, the intervals of despair already endured had 


\60 


TEE BOY TAR. 


ever alternated with glimpses of hope ; and this had sus- 
tained me, until I became more able to look my terrible 
fate in the face. 

I continued to cry out, sometimes for minutes at a 
time, and then only now and again, at intervals ; but as 
no response came, the intervals between my spells of 
shouting became longer and longer, till at length, resign- 
ing all hope of being heard, I allowed my hoarse voice 
to rest, and remained silent. 

For several hours after this, I lay in a sort of half 
stupor, — that is, my mind was in this state, but unfortu- 
nately my body was not so. On the contrary, I was 
racked with severe bodily pain, — the pain of extreme 
thirst, — perhaps the most grievous and hardest to en- 
dure of all physical suffering. I never should have be- 
lieved that one could be so tortured by so simple a thing 
as the want of a drink of w'ater ; and w'hen I used to read 
of travellers in the desert, and shipwrecked mariners on 
the ocean, having endured such agonies from thirst, as 
even to die of it, I always fancied there was exaggera- 
tion in the narrative. Like all English boys, brought 
up in a climate wdiere there is plenty of moisture, and 
in a country where springs or runlets exist within a few 
hundred yards of any given point, it is not likely I 
should ever have known thirst by experience. Perhaps 
a little of it at times, when at play off in the fields, or 
by the sea-shore, where there was no fresh water. Then 
I had felt what we ordinarily call thirst — a somewhat 
unpleasant sensation in the throat, which causes us to 
yearn for a glass of water. But this 'unpleasantness is 
very trifling, and is almost neutralized by the anticipa- 
tion we have of the pleasure to be experienced while 


THIRST. 


131 


allaying it ; foi this, we know, we shall be able to accom- 
plish in a veiy short time. Indeed, so trifling is the 
annoyance we feel from ordinary thirst, that it is rare 
when we are compelled to stoop, either to the ditch 
or the pond, for the purpose of assuaging it. We are 
dainty enough to wait, until we encounter a cod well or 
some limpid spring. 

This, however, is not thirst ; it is but thirst in its first 
and mildest stage — rather pleasant from the knowledge 
you have of being able soon to remove the pain. Once 
take away this confidence — become assured that no 
wells nor springs are near — no ponds, ditches, lakes, 
nor rivers — that no fresh water is within hundreds of 
miles of you — no fluid of any kind that will allay the 
appetite, and then even this incipient feeling of thirst 
would at once assume a new character, and become 
sufficiently painful to endure. 

I may not have been so absolutely in need of drink at 
the time — for I had not been so long without it. I am 
sure I had often gone for days without thinking of water, 
but this was just because I knew I might have as much 
AS I pleased at a moment’s notice. Now that there was 
none to be had, and no prospect of obtaining any, I felt 
for the first time in my life that thirst was a real agony. 

I was not again hungry. The provisions which I had 
purchased with the price of my sloop were not yet ex- 
hausted. S9PQe pieces of the cheese, and several of the 
biscuits, still remained, but I did not venture to touch 
them. They would only have increased my thirst. 
The last morsels I had eaten had produced this effect. 
My parcht d throat called only for water, — water at that 
moment aj peared to me the most desirable thing in th^ 
world. 


132 


THE BOY TAR. 


I was in a situation somewhat simila.‘ to that of Tan 
talus. Water I saw not, but I heard it. The hoarse 
rushing of the waves as they tore along the sides of the 
ship was plainly audible. I knew it was the water of 
the sea, — salt, and of no service to me, even could I 
have reached it, — but still it was the sound of water 
playing continually on my ears as if to mock and tan- 
talize me. 

I need not recount the many painful reflections that 
passed through my mind during the period that followed. 
Suffice it to say, that for many long hours I endured the 
terrible pain of thirst, without any hope of being re- 
lieved from its torture. I felt certain it was going to 
kill me. I knew not how soon, but I was sure that 
sooner or later it would cause my death. I had read of 
men living for days under the agony of thirst, before life 
became extinct. I tried to remember how many days 
they had lived, but my memory was at fault. Six or 
seven, I fancied, was the longest period. The prospect 
was appalling. How could I endure for six or seven 
days what I was then suffering? How could I bear it 
for even one day longer ? Oh ! it was fearful to endure ! 
I hoped that death would sooner come, and release me 
from such torture ! 

But a far brighter hope was nigh ; and almo»| upon 
the instant that I had given mental expression to that 
"despairing wish, a sound fell upon my ears that at once 
changed the current of my thoughts, and caused me to 
forget the horror of my situation. 

Oh ! that sweet sound ! It was like the whisper of 
BQ angel of mercy I 


CHAPTER XXIII 


A. SWEET SOUND. 

I WAS lying, or half standing erect, with my she aider 
against one of the great ribs of the ship that traversed 
my little chamber from top to bottom, dividing it into 
two nearly equal parts. I had got into this attitude 
merely as a change ; for during the long days and nights 
since I entered my confined quarters, I had tried every 
attitude I could think of, in order tt> obtain freedom from 
the monotony of remaining too long in one position. I 
had tried sitting ; also standing, though somewhat bent ; 
more generally I had lain down, — now on one side, now 
on the other, — sometimes upon my back, and even 
sometimes on my face. 

The position I had now assumed to rest me for a mo 
ment was a standing one, though only half erect, as the 
height of my chamber was not equal to my own length. 
The point of my shoulder found a resting-place against 
the rib of the vessel, and my head, drooping forward, 
was nearly in contact with the side of the great butt, 
upon the swell of which my hand rested. 

Of course, my ear was close to the ca«?k — almost 
touching its hard oaken staves ; and it was through these 
that the sound reached me which I have described 


134 


THE BOY TAR. 


having caused a sudden and pleasant reaction in my 
feelings. 

The sound itself was simple enough to understand. 
Teasily understood it. It was the “ cluk-cluk ” of water 
nioving about inside the butt — its motion being caused 
by the pitching of the ship, and a slight rolling of the 
cask itself, which bad not been steadily “ cleated in its 
place. 

The first “ cluk ” was music to my ears ; but I did not 
permit myself the free enjoyment of it until I had fully 
satisfied myself as to the nature of what I had heard. 

I had raised my head with a start, and I now placed 
my cheek against the oak staves, and stood with every 
nerve in my ear straining to catch the sounds. I waited 
a good while, for it was only at intervals that the ship 
gave her heaviest lurches, and only then did the fluid 
within the butt become disturbed. I waited patiently, 
and my patience was rewarded. There again ! — “ cluk- 
cluk-cluk ! ” 

“ Cluk-cleek-clee-chuchle-cluhJ'^l^eyondi a doubt there 
was water in the cask ! 

, I could not restrain myself from uttering a shout of 
' joy. I felt like one who had been for a long while in 
the act of being drowned, and who at length had reached 
land, and was saved. 

The sudden transition in my feelings almost caused 
me to faint ; as it was, I stagger(‘d back against the 
timbers, and dropped down in a state of half-insen- 
sibility. 

Not long did I remain so. The acute torture soon 
prompted me to action ; and I rose again, and leaned 
forward against the cask. 


A SWEET SOUND. 


135 


For whai purpose ? To find the bung, of course ; 
draw it out, and relieve my thirst by a draught of 
water. What other object could I have in approach 
ing it ?. 

Alas ! alas ! my new-sprung joy fast fleeted away — 
almost as suddenly as it had arisen ! Not quite so sud 
dcnly ; for it took me some time to run my fingers 
all over the swelling outlines of that great vessel ; to 
pass them around its ends as far as the heavy boxes 
would permit ; to go over the ground again and again, 
inch by inch, and stave by stave, with all the careful 
touch of one who is blind. Yes, it took me minutes 
to accomplish this, and to become satisfied that the 
bung was not upon ray side of the cask — that it was 
either upon the 'top or the opposite side ; but, whether 
one or the other, it was beyond my reach, and it was 
therefore as useless to me as if no such aperture 
existed. 

In my search for the bung, I had not forgotten the 
vent or tap-hole. I knew that every cask is provided 
with both these apertures, — that one should be in the 
side and the other in the head or end. But my search 
for the vent did not occupy two seconds of time. I at 
once perceived that both ends of the barrel, with the 
exception of a few inches near the edge, were com- 
pletely blocked up, — one by the box, and the opposite 
one by the other cask, already mentioned, — the latter 
of which appeared to be a counterpart of that in front 
of me. 

It occurred to me that this other cask might also 
contain water, and I proceeded to make a “ recon- 
noissance” of it; but I could only “grope” a small 


136 


THE BOY TAR. 


portion of its end, and there I felt only the smooth 
hard heading of oak, that resisted my touch like a 
wall of rock. 

It was only after all this had been accomplished, that 
I began once more to feel the misery of my situation, — 
once more to resign myself to despair. I was now 
tantalized even worse than ever. I could hear at in- 
tervals the “ jabbling ” of the water within two inches 
of my lips, and was unable to_ taste it ! Oh ! what 1 
would have given for one drop upon my tongue ! one 
gill to moisten my throat, parched and buniing like a 
coal of fire ! 

If I had had an axe with room to wield it, how I 
should have burst open that huge cistern, and drank 
fiercely of its contents ! But I had no ai.e — no weapon 
of any kind ; and without one the thick oaken staves 
were as impenetrable to me as if they had been solid 
iron. Even had I succeeded in reaching the bung or 
vent, how could I have got out the stopper or vent-peg ? 
With my fingers it would plainly have been impracti- 
c,able ; though in the eagerness of my first hope I had 
never thought of this difficulty. 

I believe that I once more sat or staggered down, 
and after a little while rose up again, and made a 
fresh examination of the butt ; but I am not sure 
about what I did, for th'^ new disappointment had 
quite stupefied me, and I cannot exactly remember 
what followed for a good while after. I believe, how- 
ever, that *I performed these acts in a sort of mecranical 
way ; and also that I tried once more to move the box, 
and pushed against it with all my strength ; but, as be 
fore, to no purpose 




A SWEET SOUND. 


137 


After this I must have lain down, and resigned my- 
oelf to despair, that again bound me in its hideous em- 
brace. How long, I cannot tell ; but its spell was at 
length broken by a circumstance that once more put 
my senses on the alert. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


TAPPING THE BUTT. 

I HAD stretched myself lengthwise in my cell, and 
was lying upon my right side, with my head resting 
upon my arm. While thus placed, I felt something 
pressing against my thigh, as though there was a pro- 
tuberance on the plank, or some piece of hard material 
under me. It began to give me pain, and I reached 
down my hand to remove it, at the same time raising 
my body so that I might get at it. I was a little sur- 
prised on not finding anything ; but the next moment I 
perceived that the hard substance that annoyed me 
was not upon the planks, but inside the pocket of my 
trousers ! 

What had I got there ? I remembered nothing, ana 
might have supposed it was some fragments of biscuit ; 
but these I had deposited in the pockets of my jacket, 
and they could not have got down to my trousers. I 
felt the article from the outside. It was something 
very hard, and of a longish shape; but I could not 
think what, for as yet I could remember nothing that 
I had carried, with the exception of the biscuits and 
cheese. 

I had to raise myself up in order to insert my hand 
into the pocket, and not until I had done so was I mad? 


TAPPING THE BUTT. 


13S 


Acquainted with the nature of its contents. The hard 
oblong thing that had thus attracted mj attention was 
the knife given me by the sailor, Waters ; and which, 
having thrust mechanically into my pocket at the mo- 
ment of receiving it, I had quite forgotten. 

The discovery caused me no particular emotion at 
the moment. Simply a thought of the kindness of the 
sailor as contrasted with the brutality of the mate, — 
just the same thought that passed through my mind at 
the time the gift was presented. With this reflection 
I drew forth the knife, and flinging it down beside me, 
so that it might be out of the way, I lay down on my 
side as before. 

But I had scarcely stretched myself, when an idea 
crossed my mind, that prompted me to start up again, 
as suddenly as if I had lain flown upon redhot iron. 
Unlike the latter, however, it was not a feeling of pain 
that caused this quick movement, but one of pleasure 
— of joyful hope. It had just occurred to me that with 
the knife I might make a hole in the side of the cask, 
and thus reach the water ! 

So practicable did the design appear, that I had not a 
doubt of being able to accomplish it ; and the certainty 
I now felt of getting at the precious contents of the 
cask, produced a complete revulsion in my feelings — 
another sudden transition from despair to hope. 

I groped eagerly about, and soon recovered the knite. 
I had scarce looked at it on receiving it from the hands 
of the friendly sailor. Now I examined it carefully, — 
by the touch, of course, — I felt it all over ; and as well 
as I was able by such a test, calculated its strength and 
fitness for the work I had designed for it. 


140 


THE BOY TAR. 


It was what is termed a “jackknife,” with a buck 
horn handle, and but ' one blade — a sort in common 
use among sailors, who usually carry them on a string 
passed around the neck, and to which the knife is at- 
tached by a hole drilled in the haft. The blade was a 
square one, drawn to an angular point, and shaped 
somewhat like the blade of a razor. Like the latten 
too, the back was thick and strong, as I could tell by 
the “feel.” I was gratified at perceiving this, for I 
knew that it would require a strong blade to hew a 
hole through the tough staves of oak. 

The instrument I held in my hands was the very 
thing for the purpose, almost as good as a chisel. Haft 
and blade were nearly of equal length, and when open- 
ed out, they measured about ten inches together. 

I have been thus particular in describing this knife ; 
and from me it merits all that has been said, and far 
more, in praise of its good qualities ; since, but for it, I 
should not now be alive to give an account of its won - 
derful performances. 

Well, having opened the knife, and drawn my fingers 
along the blade, and felt it over and over again, in order 
to get acquainted with its form _and fitness — and then, 
having examined the back spring, and tried its strength 
by various openings and shuttings : having done all this, 
I went to work upon the hard oak. 

You will wonder that I wanted to take all these pre- 
cautions. You will fancy that, tortured as I was by 
thirst, I would scarce have had so much patience, but 
would have set about making the hole at once, in order 
the sooner to get relief by a draught of the water. 
Certainly my patience was greatly tempted; but 1 
















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TAPPING THE BUTT. 


141 


never was w’hat is called a rash boy, and in that dark 
hour I felt more than ever in my life the necessity of 
prudence and caution. I knew that death — a horrid 
death from thirst — awaited me, if I did not succeed in 
getting at the contents of the cask ; and should any ac- 
cident happen to the knife, should the blade break, or 
even the point be snapped off, this death would surely 
be my fate. No wmnder then, I took the precaution to 
examine well my weapon, and ascertain its strength. I 
might have acted with more recklessness had I reflected 
more. Even had I been certain of procuring the water, 
what then ? It could only save me from dying of thirst. 
But hunger? How was that to be relieved? Water 
was drink, but not food. Where was I^to find food? 

Strange to say, I did not think of food at that mo- 
ment. I was not yet hungry, and the agony of thirst 
had hitherto been my only apprehension, precluding all 
thoughts of the kindred appetite. The prospect of the 
nearer danger — that of perishing from the w'ant of 
water — had hindered my mind from dwelling' on that 
which was more remote ; and, strange to say, I had as 
yet scarce given a thought to what shortly after became 
my exclusive apprehension — the danger of dying by 
hunger. 

It is certain, therefore, that had I reflected on this, I 
should have proceeded with less prudence. Fortunately, 
I did not reflect ; but set about the accomplishment of 
ray purpose with due method and caution. 

I selected a spot in the side of the cask, where one of 
the staves appeared to be a little chafed and damaged. 
I chose it better than half-way from the top. The cask 
might be only half full, though that was not likely. B 


142 


THE BOl TAK. 


SO, it would be necessary for me to make my lap below 
the surface of the water, otherwise I should have to 
make it over again. A hole would have been of no use 
to me, unless it entered below the water-line. 

Having chosen the spot, I at once set to work, and in 
a short while had the gratification to find that I was rap- 
idly hollowing out a space in the thick stave. The knifi^ 
behaved admirably, and hard as was the oak, it had to 
yield to the harder steel of that beautiful blade. Bit by 
nit, and chip by chip, the wood w^as detached before 
its keen point ; and as each fresh fibre was loosened, I 
seized it with my fingers and pulled it oflT, to make way 
for the blade. 

For more than an hour I kept on, of course working 
in darkness. I had by this time grown so familiar with 
darkness, that I no longer experienced the feeling of 
helplessness one always has when suddenly plunged into 
it. My sense of touch seemed to have become keener 
and more delicate — as is well known to be the case 
with those who are blind. I felt no difficulty on the 
score of light ; and as it would have availed but little 
for the work in which I was engaged, I never even 
thought of its absence. 

I did not progress as fast as a carpenter would have 
done with his mortising chisel, or a cooper with his 
breast-bit or auger ; but I had the gratification of know- 
ing that I was progressing. Though slowly, I perceived 
that the hollow was getting deeper and deeper ; the stave 
could not be more than an inch in thickness ; surely I 
should soon be through it ? 

I could have done the business in less time, had I 
been more reckless of consequences; but I feared to 


TAPPING THE BUTT 


143 


strain too heavily upon the blade, and, remembering the 
old adage — “ The more haste the less speed,” I vhan- 
dled the precious tool with care. 

It was more than an hour before 1 approached the 
inner surface of the plank. I knew that I was nearly 
through it from the depth to which I had cut. 

My hand now trembled as I worked. My heart beat 
loudly against my ribs. It was a moment of vivid emo- 
tion. A fearful thought was in my mind, — a dread 
doubt was troubling me, — a doubt that it was water 1 
This doubt had occurred to me at an earlier period, but 
at no time did I feel it so intensely as at that moment — 
just upon the eve of its solution. 

Oh, heaven ! should it not be water after all, — should 
the contents of the cask prove to be rum or brandy, or 
even wine ! I knew that none of these WQuld avail to 
quench my burning thirst. For the moment they might, 
but only for the moment ; it would return fiercer and more 
craving than ever. Oh ! if it should be one or any of 
them, then indeed was I lost, — then indeed might I 
yield up my last hope, and die as men have often died, 
under the madness of intoxication ! 

I was close to the inner surface of the stave mois- 
ture was already oozing through the wood, where it had 
been penetrated by the point of the blade. I hesitated 
to make the last cut — I dreaded the result. I hesitated 
but a short while. The torture of my thirst impelled 
me on ; and plunging the blade deeply, I felt the last 
fibres yielding to its point. Almost at the same instant 
a cold spray rushed out, sprinkling my hand upon the 
haft, and rushing far up my sleeve. 

After giving the blade a twist, I drew it out, and then 


144 


THE BOY TAR. 


a jet shot forth, as if forced from a syringe. In another 
instant my lips covered the vent, and I drank delicious 
Iraughts, — not of spirits, not of wine, — but of water 
cold and sweet as though it issued from a rock of lime- 


CHAPTER XXV. 


THE VENT-PEG. 

Oh ! how I drank of that delicious water I I thought 
1 should never be satisfied ; but at length satiety was 
produced, and I thirsted no more. 

The effect was not immediate, — the first long draught 
did not relieve^ me, or only for a time. I longed again 
and again placed my lips to the spouting stream ; and 
this I did repeatedly, until the longing returned not, and 
the pangs of thirst were forgotten as if I had never felt 
them I 

It is beyond the power of the imagination to form any 
idea of the agony of thirst — mere fancy cannot realize 
it. It must be experienced to be known, but a proof 
of its intensity might be given by adducing the horri- 
ble alternatives to which men have resorted when re- 
duced to the extremity of this torturing pain. And yet, 
withal, as soon as the craving is appeased — so soon as 
a suflicient quantity of water has passed the lips, the 
pain exists no more, but ends with the suddenness of 
dream ! No other bodily ill can be so quickly "healed. 

My thirst was now gone, and I felt buoyant ; but my 
habitual prudence did not forsake me. During the hi 
^ervals when my lips were removed from the vent, I 


Id6 


THE BOY TAR. 


had kept the water from running by pressing the end 
of my forefinger into the hole, and using it as a stop- 
per. Something whispered me that it would be well 
not to waste the precious fluid, and I resolved to obey 
the suggestion. When I had finished drinking, I used 
my finger a» before but after a little, I grew tired of 
making a vent-peg of my finger, and looked about for 
something else. I groped all over the bottom timbers, 
but could find nothing — not the smallest piece of stick 
within reach of my right hand. It was the forefinger 
of my left that was playing vent-peg; and I dared 
not remove it, else the water would have gushed forth 
in a tolerably thick, and therefore a wasteful jet. , 

I bethought me of a piece of cheese, and I drew 
what remained from my pocket. It was of too excel- 
lent a quality for the purpose, and crumbled as I ap- 
plied it to the aperture. It was forced out of my fingers 
by the strength of the spouting water. A biscuit would 
have been equally unserviceable. What was I to do ? 

In answer to this interrogatory, it occurred to me that 
T might calk the hole with a rag from my jacket. It 
was fustian, and would answer admirably. 

No sooner thought of, than with my knife I cut a 
piece from the flap, and placing it. over the hole, and 
punching it well in with the blade, I succeeded in stop- 
ping the run, though I could perceive that it yet leaked 
a little. This, however, would not signify. I only in- 
tended the piece of cloth for a temporary stopper, until 
I could cast around and contrive something better. 

I was once more free to reflect, and I need riot tell 
you that my reflections soon guided me back to despair. 
To what purpose had I been ^aved from death by thirst? 


THE VENT-PEG. 


147 


It would only be a protraction of ray misery, — a few 
hours more of w'retched existence, — for certainly I must 
meet death by hunger. There was no alternative. My 
little stock was almost consumed. Two biscuits, and a 
handful of cheese-crumbs, were all that remained. I 
might make another meal upon them — a very slight 
one ; and then — ay, then — hunger, gnawing hunger 
— weakness — feebleness — exhaustion — death ! 

Strange to say that while suffering from thirst I had 
not thought of dying by hunger. It would be more 
exact to say I had scarce thought of it. At intervals, 
some glimpses of such a fate had been before my 
mind’s eye ; but, as I have already stated, the stronger 
agony eclipsed the weaker, and rendered it almost un- 
cared for. 

Now, however, that all fears of the former were 
removed, the dread of the latter usurped its place. 
The little interval of buoyant, feeling which I experi- 
enced was merely the consequence of my unexpected 
relief from a painful suffering, and only lasted until 
calm reflection returned. In a few minutes it was over, 
and my apprehension of death became as acute as ever. 
It is wrong to call it an apprehension, for it was a 
positive certainty that stared me in the face. I had not 
given five minutes’ thought to my situation, till I felt as 
certain of death as I was that I still lived. There was 
no hope of escape from ray prison, — that I had given 
up long ago ; and since I ' had nothing to eat, and not 
the slightest hope of obtaining anything, how was I to 
live ? It required no reasoning to find an answer to 
the question. 

Perish I must, and by hunger ; there was no aHerna- 


J48 


THE BOY TAR. 


live, unless I chose to die by my own hand. 1 was now 
aware that I possessed the means to effect the latter, but 
strange to say, the madness that would liave prompted 
me to it, during the first throes of my despair, was gone ; 
and I could now contemplate death with a calmness 
that surprised me. 

Three modes of dying were possible, and within my 
reach, — thirst, hunger, and suicide ; and it may astonish 
you to know that the next thing I did was to take into 
consideration which of the three it would be easiest 
to endure. 

This in reality was the leading idea in my mind as 
soon as I became convinced that I mmt die. You need 
not be astonished. Only imagine yourselves in my sit- 
uation, and you will perceive that such thoughts were 
but natural. 

The first of these three I rejected at once, — it could 
not be the easiest. I had almost tried it, -and my experi- 
ence satisfied me that existence could scarce be ended in 
a less gentle way. Only upon the last two, therefore, 
did my mind dwell ; and for some time I sat coolly 
weighing the one against the other. Unfortunately, my 
young days had been passed in a manner almost hea- 
thenish ; and at that time I did not even know that tak 
ing one’s own life was a crime. This consideration, 
therefore, had no weight in the balance ; and all I had 
to guide me was the conjecture as to which of the two 
modes of death would be least painful ! 

And I sat for a long while — coolly and calmly T sat 
— engaged in this singular contemplation. 

Good and evil must be instinctive. Something within 
tdd me it would be wrong to take away the life which 


THE VENT-PEG. 


149 


Gk)d had giren — even though the act might save Ine 
from protracted pain. 

This thought triumphed ; and, mustering all my cour- 
age, I resolved to await the event — whatever time U 
might please Grod to put a termination to my misery. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


THE BISCUIT-BOX. 

dAV (NO resolved, then, not to die by my own hand, 1 
iDe same time came to the resolution to^live as long 
ai* 1 could. Though my two biscuits would not have 
sewed me for another good meal, I determined to make 
at least four out of them, and also to make the intervals 
between each two as long as possible, — just as long as 
I coutdl endure without eating. 

The desire of prolonging my existence had been grad- 
ually growing upon me, ever since I had been relieved 
from the torture of thirst ; and it had now become as 
strong as at any period of my life. The truth is, I had 
a presentiment that I should still survive, — that I was 
not going to perish of hunger ; and this presentiment — 
though ever so slight, and entertained only at intervals 
— helped to sustain me with a sort of faint hope. 

I can hardly tell why I should have entertained it at 
all, so really hopeless appeared my situation. But then 
1 remembered that but a few hours before the prospect 
of obtaining water was equally hopeless, and now I 
possessed enough to drown myself in. Fanciful as it 
may seem, this idea had occurred to me, — that is, to 
drown myself! But the moment before, while con- 
templating :he easiest means of death, that of drowning 


THE BISCUIT-BOX. 


l&l 

had actually come before my mind. I had often heard 
that it was about the least painful mode of terminating 
one^s existence. Indeed I might say that I had myself 
made trial of it. 

When saved by Harry Blew I was drowned to all 
intents and purposes — so far as suffering was con- 
cerned — and I am sure that had I been then permitted 
to go to the bottom, I should never have felt another 
pang. I was satisfied, therefore, that drowning was not 
so very hard a death ; and I actually had it in considera- 
tion whether I should not cut my way into the great butt, 
and in this way end my misery ! This was during my 
moments of despair, when I seriously contemplated self- 
destruction ; but these moments had passed, and I again 
felt an unaccountable desire that my life should be pro 
longed. 

Perhaps this change in my sentiments is not so inex- 
plicable. The strange circumstance of my finding the 
water — with the consequent escape from death by thirst 
— had something in it of a nature almost miraculous, — ■ 
something that suggested the hand of Providence 
stretched forth in my favor. That hand could equally 
aid me in other ways, — could equally save me from 
starvation by hunger ; and though I knew not how, it 
might yet deliver me from my fearful prison. 

Perhaps some ideas of this kind were passing in my 
mind, and it was from these I drew that indefinable pre- 
sentiment that I should yet escape. 

I ate my half biscuit, and again drank of the water, 
for my thirst kept returning upon me, — though it no 
longer gave me uneasiness. I calked up the vent aa 
before, and then sat down in silence. 


I 


152 THE BOY TAR. 

" X 

1 had no idea of making any exertion. I had nc 
hope that anything I could do would in the least degree 
alter my situation. What could I do ? My hope — if 
hope I may call it — res-'^ed only upon fate, upon chance, 
or rather, I should say, upon God. But how the hand 
of Providence could be interposed on my behalf, I had 
ot the slightest idea. 

Those dark, silent hours were hard to endure. It 
was only at intervals that I was cheered by the presenti- 
ment I have described ; but in the far longer intervals 
between, I felt gloomy and despairing. 

Nearly twelve hours must have passed before I ate 
my second half biscuit. I waited as long as I could, but 
at length I was obliged to yield to the calls of hunger. 
The little morsel produced no satisfaction. It rather 
appeared to render my appetite more keen and craving. 
I drank copiously ; but although the water filled my 
stomach, it had no effect in stifling the sensations of 
hunger. 

In about six hours after, I made another meal, 
another half biscuit gone. I could not endure longer ; 
and when the tiny crumb was swallowed, I knew not 
that I had eaten. I was as hungry as ever ! 

Scarce three hours was the next interval. My brave 
resolution to make the two biscuits last for as many days 
was to no purpose. Not one day had passed, and the 
last morsel had disappeared. 

What next ? What should I eat next ? I was a? 
hungry as ever. 

I thought of my shoes. I had read of men sustaining 
themselves for a time by chewing up their boots, their 
belts, their gaiters, their pouches and saddles ; in short 


THE BISCUIT -BOX. 


153 


anything that was made of leather. Leather is an 
animal substance, and, even when tanned and manu- 
factured, still possesses nutriment, though only in a slight 
degree. With these memories, then, I thought of ny 
shoes. 

I was stooping down to unlace them, when I was 
startled by something cold that struck me upon the back 
of the head. It was a stream of water. The rag of 
fustian had been pressed out, and the water was escap- 
ing. The jet had fallen on the back of my head, just 
upon the bare part of the neck, and its coldness, to- 
gether with the suddenness of the thing, caused me 
to start up in some surprise. 

Of course, my astonishment ceased, as soon as I per- 
ceived what it was that had startled me. 

I placed my finger in the aperture, and groping about 
for the rag, soon found it, and recalked the cask. 

This had now happened more than once, and much 
water had been wasted. The rag had become loosened 
by the action of the water, and was pressed out. It oc- 
curred to me that it might occur again while I was 
asleep, and most of the water in the butt might run off, 
and thus get lost altogether. Some precaution, there^ 
fore, must be taken, — I must find a better stopper. 

With this idea I went to work to contrive one. I 
- searched all around the " floor ” of my cabin in hopes 
of picking up some stray chip, but no such thing was 
there. 

I bethought me of cutting a splint from one of the 
great ribs of the ship ; and I rnade the attempt with my 
knife, but the wood was hard oak and painted, and de- 
fied all my efforts to split off a piece large enough foi 


154 


THE BOY TAR. 


my parpjse. In the end, no doubt, I should have sue 
ceeded ; but just then it occurred to me that I could 
more easily get a supply from the box. This being a 
rough packing case, was no doubt made of common 
deal ; and from the touch I was convinced that it was 
so. Of course, being much softer than the oak, and 
more easily split with a knife, I should have a better 
chance of procuring what I wanted; and, moreover, a 
piece of deal would do better for a stopper. 

Shifting myself round, therefore, so as to face towards 
the box, I began to feel all over it for the best place to 
use my knife upon. 

At one of the corners I perceived the point of advan- 
^ tage, where one of the boards slightly projected above 
the level of the top. Into this board I sunk my blade, 
•pressing it downward, and causing it to act both as a 
wedge and a chisel. I had given but one push upon it, 
when I perceived that the board was loose. The nails 
which had fastened it had either been broken off or 
drawn out, probably by the rough mauling it had got 
while being stowed. Whether or not, I felt that it was 
quite loose, and moved under my touch. 

I at once drew out the blade. I saw that I could 
pull off the board with my hands, and it would then be 
easier to split off the piece that I wanted. I laid the 
knife down, and applying my fingers to the projecting 
end of the board, I seized it firmly, and pulled with all 
my might. 

It yielded to my strength. There was some creak- 
ing and crackling, as the nails were drawn out or bro 
ken ; and then a sound reached my ears that caused me 
to desist and listen. It was the sound of some hard ob« 


THE BISCUIT-BOX. 


155 


jects escaping from out the box, and falling with a rat- 
tle upon the timbers beneath. 

I was curious to know what these objects were, and 
letting go my hold, I stretched my hands downward, 
and groped for what had been spilled. I lifted two of 
similar shape and size, and as I ran my fingers over 
them, I could not restrain myself from giving utterance 
to a shout of joy. 

I have said that my touch had grown almost as deli- 
cate as that of a blind man ; but had it been ever sc 
obtuse, I could have told at that moment, what were the 
two flat round objects which I held between my fingers. 
There was no mistaking the “ feel ” of them. They 
were biscuits I 


CHAPTEll XXVII. 


A CASK OF BRANDY. 

Yes, biscuits — each of them as large as a small 
plate and nearly half an inch in thickness, smooth and 
round, and pleasant to the touch, and of a rich brown 
color — I could tell the color, for I knew from the feel 
that they were real sea biscuits ; or, as they are gener- 
ally styled, “ sailor’s biscuits,” to distinguish them from 
the white “ captain’s biscuits,” to which, in my opinion, 
they are superior, — far sweeter and more wholesome. 

How sweet they tasted at that moment ! for on the 
very instant that I got hold of them, did I raise one to 
my mouth, and bite a large piece out of its smooth cir- 
cumference. Delicious morsel ! a whole one was soon 
ground into crumbs and swallowed, and then a second, 
and a third, and a fourth, and a fifth, and perhaps still 
another ! for I never thought of keeping count, so long 
as hunger urged me to eat. Of course, I washed them 
down with copious libations from the butt. 

I remember no meal eaten during all my life that I 
enjoyed with so much relish, as this one of biscuits and 
water. It was not simply from the delight experienced 
by satisfying the cravings of a hungry stomach, — which 
. of itself, as every one knows, is a high source of enjoy- 


A CASK OF BRANDY. 


157 


Dient, — but along with it, was the pleasure derived 
from my discovery, — the delightful consciousness, still 
fresh before my mind, that my life, which but the mo- 
ment before I held as lost, was still to be spared me 
Beyond a question, the hand of Providence had inter- 
posed to save my life. 

I had no doubt that this was so. With such store 
both of food and drink, I could live — despite the dark- 
ness of my dungeon — for weeks, for months — until 
the voyage should come to an end, and the ship be 
emptied of its cargo. 

I*felt sure of safety, as I made an inspection of my 
provision chest. They came pouring forth, those pre- 
cious cakes, spilling out at the touch, and cracking to- 
gether like castanets. 

Their rattle was music to my ears. I thrust my 
hands into the box, delighting to bury my fingers amid 
the ricn profusion of its contents ; as the miser joys to 
revel among his heaps of gold. I thought I should 
never tire groping among them, feeling how thick and 
large they were, and drawing them out from the box, 
and putting them back into it, and tumbling them about 
in every way. I acted just like a child with its drum 
and its ball, its top and its orange, rolling them from 
side to side ; and it was a long time before I grew tired 
of this childlike play. 

Long — I am sure I must have gone on in this way 
for nearly an hour, before the excitement into which 
the discovery had put me cooled down, and I could act 
and think calmly. 

It is difficult to describe the sensation one feels, when 
suddenly rescued from the jaws of death. Escape from 


158 


THE BOY TAR. 


an impending danger is different, as one Is not cer'.ain 
that I he danger would end in death ; for there are few 
kinds of peril that produce the conviction that deatli 
must be the event. When this conviction once enters 
the mind, and after that the self-expecting victim sur- 
vives, the sudden reaction from despair to joy is a feel- 
ing of such intense happiness, as almost to cause bewil- 
derment. Men ere now have died of such joy, while 
others have gone mad. 

I neither died nor went mad ; but could my behavior 
have been observed for some time after breaking open 
the biscuit-box, it might have been supposed that I was 
mad. 

The first thing that restored me to calmer reflection, 
was the discovery that the water was running from the 
cask, in a full jet. The aperture was quite open. I 
was chagrined at making this observation, — I may say, 
terrified. I knew not how long the waste had been 
going on ; the sough of the sea outside prevented me 
from hearing it, and the water, as soon as it fell, filtered 
off under the timbers of the vessel. Perhaps it had 
been running ever since I last drank ; for I had no 
recollection of having put back the rag stopper. My 
excitement had hindered me from thinking of it. If 
that were really the case, then there had been much 
waste, and the thought filled me with dismay. 

But an hour ago, I should have not so much regarded 
this loss of water. Then 1 knew there w’ould still be 
drink enough to outlast the food, — to last as long as 1 
expected to live. Now, however, my altered prospects 
caused me to regard the circumstance with very differ- 
ent ideas. I might be months alive, and still cooped up 


A CASK OF BRANDY. 


159 


behind the cask. Every drop of its conter.ts might be 
required. If it was to run short before the ship reached 
her port, then I should ]>e brought back to my original 
position, and death by thirst would be my fate after alL 
No wonder I perceived with dismay that the stopper 
was out and the stream was flowing ! 

1 lost not a moment in pressing my fingers into the 
hole, and cutting off the run. Then once more corking 
with the rag, I proceeded to carry out my original de 
sign, of making a proper vent-peg of wood. 

A piece was easily obtained from the board I had 
detached from the lid of the box, — for it was the lid 
that was towards me ; and the soft deal, yielding to the 
keen blade of my knife, was soon shaped into a conical 
peg, that fitted exactly. 

Brave sailor ! how I blessed thee for thy gift ! 

I blamed myself much for this ^ piece of negligence; 
and I felt regret, too, that I had tapped 'the cask so low 
down. However, the latter had been itself a measure 
of precaution ; and at the time it was done, I had but 
one thought, and that was to allay my thirst as quickly 
as possible. 

It was fortunate I noticed the jet as soon as I did. 
Had it been allowed to continue running until it stopped 
of itself, — in other words, had the surface of the water 
sunk to the level of the tap-hole, — then would there 
have been but little left, scarce enough to have lasted 
me for a week. 

I endeavored to ascertain what had been the amount 
of wastage, but I could arrive at no satisfactory conclu- 
sion. I sounded the cask by striking it in different 
places with the but-end of my knife, but I derived litti" 


160 


THE LOY TAR 


knowledge from this. The creaking of the ship’s tim 
bers, and the rush of the waves, prevented any obser- 
vation of this kind from being definite or accurate. I 
fancied that the blows gave back a very hollow sound, 
as if a large space within was empty. If it were a 
fancy, it was far from being a pleasant one ; and I gave 
over my “ soundings ” with a considerable feeling of 
uneasiness. Fortunately the tap was a very small hole, 
and the jet from it of no great thickness. As near as 
I could tell by the touch, and from the repeated appli- 
cation I had made to it with my lips, this could not have 
been over the thickness of my little finger, which at that 
time was not of much greater circumference than a 
goose’s quill. I knew that such a tiny stream would 
be a long while in spending the contents of so large a 
tank ; and I endeavored to recall to mind how long it 
might have been since I last drank. In this, however, 
I was not successful. It seemed but a short while to 
me, but excited as I had been, and confused in my 
ideas, it might have been an hour, or even more. 1 
was completely baffled in any calculation that I at- 
tempted. 

I remained for a considerable time, pondering upon 
some scheme by which I might determine the quantity 
of water that still remained in the cask, for about this 
I was now most anxious. Only one hour before, food 
had been the source of my uneasiness ; before that it 
had been drink ; and now once more drink was my 
trouble, for of meat I had a plenty. 

I remembered having heard that brewers, coopers, 
and others whose business lies among the great wine 
vaults of the docks, had a way of telling pretty nearly 


A CASK OF BRANDY. 


161 


the contents of a barrel of liquid, without submitting 
them to actual measurement, but I had not heard how 
they managed the matter. I regretted not having been 
tol'i 

I thought of a plan by which I could have ascer- 
tained, to a nicety ; but I lacked the proper instrument 
to put it in execution. I understood enough of hy- 
draulics to know that water will rise to its own level, 
if guided by a pipe or tube ; I knew, therefore, that 
if I had only possessed a piece of hose, I could have 
attached it to the tap-hole, and thus discovered how 
high the water stood in the cask. 

But where was the hose or other pipe to be had ? 
Of course I could not get at what I desired in this 
way, and I relinquished the idea without giving it fur* 
ther consideration. 

Just at this moment a better plan suggested itself, 
and I proceeded to put it in execution. It was so sim- 
ple, I wondered I had not thought of it before. It was 
neither more nor less than to cut another hole through 
the staves, higher up, and, if need be, another, and so 
on, until I reached a point where the water ceased to 
run. This would give rne the knowledge I wanted. 

Should I make my first hole 'too low, I could easily 
stop it with a peg, and so with all the others. 

It is true that I was laying out for myself a consid- 
erable araDunt of work, but I rather liked this than 
otheiwise. While employed, I should feel much hap- 
pier — as my occupation would enable me the better tc 
pass the time, and keep me from thinking too much of 
my miserable situation. 

But just as I was about to commence my experiraenta 


162 


THE BOY TAR. 


on the butt, it occurred to me that I had better try the 
other one, — that which stood at the end of my little 
chamber. Should this also prove to be a water-cask; 
then I need be no longer uneasy, for surely two such 
great vessels should contain enough to supply me during 
the longest voyage that ever was made. 

Without more ado, then, I turned upon the second 
cask, and commenced drilling a hole in the end of it. 
'' T was not so excited as before, for I did not feel that 
so much depended upon the result. For all that, it 
caused me a good deal of disappointment, when, on get- 
ting the point of my blade through to the inside, I dis- 
covered that the stream that came jetting out was not 
water but pure brandy, which proved that it was a bran- 
dy-cask I had tapped. 

I again turned my attention to the water-butt ; for I 
was now more anxious than ever to ascertain how much 
it contained, since on this depended my future safety. 

Choosing a stave near the middle of the cask, I pro- 
ceeded in the same manner as I had done when making 
my first incision ; and, working constantly for an hour 
or more, I felt the thin shell springing before the point 
of my knife. My apprehensions were acuce, though 
^ jiot so much so as on the former occasion. Then it was 
a matter of life or death, almost upon the instant ; now 
the contingency was more remote, and not quite so 
definite or certain. Withal I could not help a strong 
feeling of anxiety, nor could I avoid uttering an excla- 
mation of delight, when I felt the cold spring of water 
gushing along the blade of my knife. I soon closed the 
slight aperture, and recommenced my drilling process 
uj)on the next stave higher up. 


163 


A CASK OF BRANDY. 

This I also penetrated in due time, and was again 
rewarded for my patient labor by getting my fingers 
wet from the inside. 

Another step higher, with a like result. 

Another, and the water came not. No matter, I was 
now far up near the top of the cask. I had found wa- 
ter at the last bo.ing tut one. It must stand still higher 
within. The cask, therefore, was more than three parts 
full. Thank Heaven ! There would be enough to last 
me for many months ! 

I felt satisfied with the result, and, sitting down, I ate 
another biscuit with as much relish and contentment as 
if 1 had been dining upon turtle and venison at the ta- 
ble of a Lord Mayor. 


CHAPTER XXVITl. 


GOING ON “rations.’* 

1 WAS full of complacence, there was nothing now lo 
cause me uneasiness. The prospect of- being cooped 
up for six months might have been very unpleasant un- 
der other circumstances, but after the far more terrible 
dread of horrid death from which I had just been deliv- 
ered, it appeared as nothing ; and I resolved to bear my 
long imprisonment with patience and resignation. • 

Six months I would have to endure this gloomy tjon- 
finement, — six months, at the least. There was but 
little probability of my being released before the expi- 
ration of a half-year ; a long term, — long and hard to 
be borne either by captive or criminal, — hard even in 
a lighted chamber, with bed and fire, and well-cooked 
food, in daily converse with human beings, and the 
sound of human voices almost continually ringing in 
your ears. Even with these advantages, to be shut up 
for six months is a painful experience. 

How much more painful would mine be, cramped 
up in close quarters, where I could neither stand erect 
nor lie at full length ; neither couch, nor fire, nor light 
to give me comfoi't ; breathing foul air, reclining upon 
the hardest of oak, living upon bread and water, — the 


GOING ON “ RATIONS.” 


165 


simp.ast diet upon which a human being could exist, and 
that unvaried by the slightest change, with no sound 
ever reaching my ear save the almost ceaseless creak- 
ing of the ship’s timbers, and the monotonous surging 
of the ocean wave, — certainly six months of such an 
existence was not a pleasant prospect to contemplate. 

Withal I regarded it not. I was still too happy at my 
deliverance from death, to be nice about the kind of life 
that was before me, though, as time passed, most proba- 
bly I should grow tired enough of such a dreary existence. 

Nov I was all joy, and confidence. Not so confident, 
however, as to rely upon conjecture, — upon a mere 
guess as to the amount of my means of existence. 
Upon this point I was determined to be fully assured, 
and that without further loss of time. My stores, both 
of food and drink, I resolved to submit to actual meas- 
urement, — in order to be satisfied as to whether they 
would be sufficient to last me till the end of the voyage. 

Hitherto I had felt no apprehension upon this head. 
Such a large box of biscuit, and such an inexhaustible 
well of water, could never be expended. This was my 
first idea ; but, after a little reflection, I began to have 
doubts. The constant drop will wear a hole in the 
hardest stone, and will also empty the largest cistern, 
if time be allowed it ; and six months was a long time, 
— nearly two hundred days, — a very long time. 

As I reflected thus, I grew a little uneasy as to the 
quantity both of my food and drink ; and to put an end 
to all doubt upon the subject, I came to the above de- 
termination of measuring them. I recognized the pru- 
dence of such a course. If it turned out that there 
were plenty of both, and to spare, I should no longer 


166 


THE BOY TAR. 


be troubled with doubts ; and if, on the other hanUj 
there was a danger of either running short, I should 
then adopt the only precaution possible, and at once put 
myself on short rations! 

When I look back, and think of my cunning at this 
early age, I am now astonished at it ; but it is surpris- 
ing what forethought even a child will exhibit, when 
placed in circumstances where self-preservation calls 
forth all its instincts and energies. 

Without more ado, then, I proceeded to make my cal- 
culation. I allowed for time, the full six months ; or ia 
other terms, a period of one hundred and eighty-thre 
days I did not even subtract the time, — about a week, 
since we had set sail. That I set aside to my advantage, 
allowing the full period of one hundred and eighty-three 
days, lest I might err by making the time too short. 
Surely, in six months the vessel would reach her port, 
and her cargo be discharged ? Surely, I might depend 
upon this? 

No, — not surely. I was far from being confident on 
this head. I knew that a voyage to Peru was usually 
reckoned a six months’ voyage ; but I was not certain 
whether this was considered the average time ; whether 
it would be accounted a long voyage or a short one 
and, therefore, I had no confidence in basing my calcu- 
lation on such uncertain data. 

There was the danger of delay, from calms in the 
tropical latitudes, through which we should have to pass, 
— from storms off Cape Horn, renowned among marr 
ners for the fickleness of its wind ; — 'jther obstacles 
might be encountered, and the voyage protracted fai 
beyond the period above ’mentioned. 


GOING ON RATIONS.” 


ICi 

I was not without such apprehensions, as I proceeded 
to examine my resources. To ascertain how long 
my stock of food would last, was simple and easy 
I had only to count the biscuits, and find out their num- 
1 er. I knew their size, and that I could live on two a 
day, though I was not likely to grow fat on the allow- 
ance. Even one a day, or still less than that, would 
sustain life ; and I resolved to be as sparing of them as 
I could. 

I soon ascertained the exact number. The box, as 
nearly as I could guess, was about a yard long and twc 
feet wide, by about one foot in depth ; for I noticed that 
it was a shallow one set upon its edge. Had I known 
its exact dimensions, I could have told the number of 
biscuits without counting them. Each w’as a little less 
than six inches in diameter, and of an average thick- 
ness of three fourths of an inch. Therefore, packed as 
they had been, there would be exactly thirty-two dozen 
in the case. 

But counting them over one by one was no labor, on 
the contrary, it afforded pleasure to me ; and drawing 
them forth out of the box I told them off in dozens. I 
found that thirty-two dozen was the number, wanting 
eight ; but the odd eight 1 w'as able to account for satis- 
factorily. I knew where had gone. 

Thirty-two dozen would make three hundred aud 
eighty-four biscuits ; and, now that I had eaten eight of 
them, there remained exactly three hundred and seventy- 
six ; which, at the rate of two per die,n, would last for 
one hundred and eighty-eight days. True, one hundred 
and eighty-eight days would be a little over six months, 
but as I had not a clear confidence about the length of 


168 


THE BOY TAR. 


the voyage being only six months, I peiceivc J that 1 must 
go on short rations, of less than two biscuits a day. 

What, thought I, if there should be another box of 
biscuits behind the one I had emptied ? That would 
secure me against all chances, and make my mind easy 
at once and forever. What if there should be another? 
Was it unlikely ? Nu : the reverse. In the stowage 
of a ship’s hold, there is not much order observed as re*- 
gards the sort of goods that are placed in juxtaposi- 
tion, but rather is regard paid to the size and shape of 
the packages ; and things of a miscellaneous kind are 
often stowed together, according to convenience, as the 
particular piece — whether box, bale, or barrel — may 
fit into a particular space. Notwithstanding that I knew 
all this, still it was probable enough that two boxes of 
biscuits had been placed side by side. 

How was I to ascertain ? I could not get round the 
box, even now that I had emptied it ; for, as already 
stated, it blocked up the whole aperture through which 
I had originally squeezed myself. Neither could I get 
over the top nor under it. 

“ Ha ! ” I exclaimed, as a thought suddenly suggested 
itself, “ I shall go through it.” ^ 

The idea was feasible enough. The board which I 
had already pulled off, left an aperture wide enough to 
admit my body. This had been part of the top or lid. 
I could, therefore, get my head and shoulders inside, and 
with my knife cut a large hole in the bottom opposite. 
That would enable me to ascertain whether another bis- 
cuit-box was beyond. 

I was not slow in putting my new design into execu* 
cion. I first widened a little more the aperture in tlia 


GOING ON “RATIONS.’^ 169 

top, SO that I couU work more conveniently ; and then 
1 attacked the bottom with my knife. The soft deal 
yielded pretty freely, but I had not made much prog 
ress in this way, when a better plan came into my 
head. I perceived that the bottom boards of the case 
were only nailed on, — perhaps a little more securely 
than those of the top, but still not fast enough to resist 
the blows of a mallet or hammer. I had neither one 
nor the other, but I thought of a tolerable substitute, — 
my heels. Laying myself, therefore, in a horizontal po- 
sition, and placing my hands against the great rib to act 
as a support, I thrust both my feet inside the box. In 
this position I was able to administer such a series of 
lusty kicks upon the bottom boards, that one of them 
soon sprung its nails, and was pressed outward, until I 
felt it could be driven no farther on account of some 
weighty impediment beyond. 

I now got back to my old position, and examined the 
progress I had made. I saw that I had dislodged a 
wide board, so far as the nails were concerned ; but it 
still stood upright, and prevented me feeling what was 
behind it. 

Using all my strength, I succeeded in pressing it to 
>ne side and then downward, until an aperture was 
obtained, through which I could thrust my hands. Sure 
enough a box was on the other side — a rough packing- 
case, resembling that I had just broken through, — but 
whether of like contents had yet to be determined. It 
would not take long to tell what it contained. I once 
more exerted my strength, and succeeded in pressing 
the loose board quite into a horizontal position, so that 
it no longer obstructed me. The other box was scarce 


170 


THE BOY TAR. 


two incbes beyond ; and, falling to upon it with mj blade, 
I soon penetrated through its side. 

Alas ! my hopes of finding more biscuit were doomed 
to disappointment. Some woollen substance — either 
coarse cloth or blankets closely packed — filled the in- 
side, feeling as solid to the touch as a piece oi' timber 
There were no biscuits there, and I was now convinced 
I shouli have to take to the short rations and make the 
best of 'n hat I already possessed. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


GAUGING THE WATER-CASK. 

Mt next operation was to put all the biscuits back into 
the box, — for strewed loosely about, as they were, they 
interfered seriously with the accommodation of my cabin, 
which, by their bulk, was diminished more than one half. 
In fact, I had scarce room to turn myself in, so long as 
they remained outside the case, and I therefore lost no 
time in restoring them to their former place of deposit. 
To make the box hold them all, I was obliged to pack 
them in regular rows, as they had been before ; with 
this difference, that the case having been tilted on its 
side, the biscuits had been lying with their edges in a 
horizontal position, whereas I now built them vertically, 
— the proper mode of packing such goods, and the way 
in which they-had been placed, when they came from 
the stores of the baker. Of course, it mattered not 
which way, as regards the space they would take up. 
On the flat side, or on their edges, it was all the same ; 
and when I counted in the thirty-one dozen and four 
odd, the box was full, with only a little empty space 
in the comer, which the eight missing biscuits had for- 
merly occupied. 

So, then, I had taken stock of my larder, and now 


172 


THE BOY TAK. 


knew the exact amount of provision I had to depend 
upon. With two biscuits -per diem, I could stand siege 
for a little better than six months. It would not be 
high living, yet I resolved to do with even less, — for 
I could not feel certain that six months would be thf 
full period of my privations. I formed the resolution 
to make two a day the rule, and never to exceed that 
number ; and on such days as I felt best able to bear 
hunger, I should stint my measure a quarter or half a 
biscuit, or even a whole one, if I found it possible 
This economic purpose, if successfully carried cut, 
would throw forward the day of absolute want to a 
much longer period than six months. 

My food being thus rationed out, it appeared equally 
necessary that I should know the quantity of water I 
migiit use each day. To ascertain this, at first appeared 
to be beyond my power. Apparently, I had no means 
of measuring what remained in the butt. It was an old 
wine or spirit-cask, — for such are the vessels generally 
used on board ships to carry water for their crews, — 
but what kind of wine-cask I could not tell, and there- 
fore I could not even guess at the quantity it might 
have contained when full. Could I only have estab- 
lished this point, I should then have been able to 
make a rough calculation as to what had been already 
spent; rough, but perhaps sufficiently precise for my 
purpose. 

I remembered well the table of liquid measure, — 1 
had good reason to remember it, — the most difficult of 
all the tables to commit to memory. I had received 
many a smart rodding, before I was able to repeat h 
over ; but I at length succeeded in getting it pit-pat. 


r 


GAUGING THE WATER-CASK. 


178 


1 knew that wine-casks are of very different diraen- 
jions, according to the sort of wine they contain : that 
under the different names of “ pipes,” “ butts,” “ hogs- 
heads,” “ puncheons,” “ tuns,” and “ tierces,” they hold 
more or less, from the hogshead of hock of thirty gal- 
lons to the great tun of wine, containing two hundred 
and fifty-two. That the spirits — brandy, whiskey, rum, 
gin, and the wines — sherry. Port, Madeira, T^heriffe, 
Malaga, and many other sor^;5, are transported in casks 
of different capacity, but usually containing about one 
hundred gallons. I even remembered the number of 
gallons of each, so well had my teacher — a great statis- 
tician — drilled me in “ liquid measure ; ” and could } 
only have known what sort of wine had once been car- 
ried inside of my water-butt, I could have told its meas- 
ure in a moment. I fancied there was the “ bouquet ” 
ct sherry about it, and that would have made it a 
^ pipe ” of one hundred and eight gallons ; but it might 
have been a Madeira pipe, which holds only ninety-two 
or Cape, or Marsala, which are about the same size 
It might have been Port, which would have stretched 
its capacity to one hundred and fifteen, or a puncheon 
ff Scotch whiskey, some of which contain one hundred 
and twenty gallons. 1 did not think it had been this 
last, else I should have known the peculiar “ twang ” 
which Scotch whiskey gives to water, however dilut- 
ed it may be. Certainly, there was a perceptible flavor 
of some liquor, but I was too young to be experienced 
in drinks, and I learned nothing from this. No doubt a 
wine-taster could have told in an instant what sort had 
formerly filled the barrel, for an old wine-cask will 
retain the particular ‘‘ bouquet ” of the wine it had 


174 


THE BOY TAR. 


carried after performing several voyages as a water 
butt. 

I drew out the stopper and tasted the water. I had 
not thought of noticing its flavor before. It appeared 
to me to be sherry ; but, as I have said, it might be 
Madeira, which would make a difference of sixteen gal 
Ions, — an important item in a calculation such as I was 
desirous of making. I therefore could not trust to my 
judgment to make this the basis of a computation, and 
I had to think of some other device. 

Fortunately, in my school arithmetic there were a 
few hints upon mensuration, and the good master had 
instructed us in these. 

I have often wondered that the simple, but useful, 
problems of this branch of science are so much neglect- 
ed, while the most useless and irrational rhymes are 
hammered into the heads of poor unfortunate boys. I 
have no hesitation in giving my opinion, that a knowl- 
edge of simple mensuration, which may be obtained in 
a week’s study, is of more value to an individual — or 
to the whole human race, if you will — than a perfect 
scholarship in all the dead languages of the world. 
Greek and Latin! These have been very barriers to 
the advancement of knowledge ! 

Well, I was saying that my old teacher had taught 
me a few simple problems in mensuration ; and for- 
tunately I still held them in ray memory. I could 
tell the solid contents of a cube, 'of a parallelopipedon, 
of a pyramid, of a globe (nearly), of a cylinder, and 
of a cone. The last was the figure that now interested 
me. 

I knew that a barrel was a pair of cones, — ihaf is. 


GAUGING THE WATER-CASK. 


175 


truncated cones, or frustums^ — with the bases resting 
against each other. Of course, when I was taught how 
to measure a cone, I was also instructed to do the same 
with the frustum of one. 

To ascertain the capacity of my butt, therefore, it was 
only necessary for me to know its length, — or its half- 
length would do as well, — its circumference at either 
end, and also its circumference around the thickest 
part, or “ swell.” These three measurements given me, 
I c*'uld tell to a quart how much water would fill it, — in 
other words, I could calculate how many cubic inches 
of water it should contain. Knowing this, I should sim- 
ply have to divide by sixty-nine and a small fraction 
over, and this would give me the number of quarts, 
which another simple division of four would reduce to 
gallons, if I required to use this standard. 

I perceived, therefore, that, if I could get the three 
measurements, I could soon tell the capacity of my butt ; 
but therein lay the difficulty. How were these meas- 
urements to be obtained ? 

I might have obtained the length, for that was before 
me from end to end ; but how should I get the circum- 
ference, either of the middle or of either end ? I could 
not reach over the top, nor around the ends. Both 
directions were blocked up against me. 

Another difficulty stared me in the face. I had noth* 
ing wherewith to measure them, — neither rule nor tape, 
— no standard by which I could determine the number 
of feet or inches ; so that, even had all sides been free 
to me, I should still have been in a dilemma. 

I was determined, however, not to yield the point 
until I had given it a good thinking. The occupatkui 


J76 


THE BOY TAR. 


would help me to pass the time ; and, as I have already 
hinted, this was a matter of-primary importance. Be- 
sides, that faithful old schoolmaster had many a time 
impressed upon us the valuable truth, that perseverance 
often finds success where success appears impossible. 
Remembering this bit of admonition, I resolved not to 
regard the thing as impracticable, until I had exhausted 
all my powers of contrivance. 

^ I persevered, therefore, and in less time than I must 
take in describing it, I hit upon a plan for “ gauging ** 
the hutt 


- 1 .. 




CHAPTER XXX. 

MY MEASURING RULE, 

The details of my plan suggested themselves m Jha 
fallowing order : — 

While examining the cask, to find if there was not 
some means of ascertaining its different diameters, I dis- - 
covered the very way itself. All I wanted was a straight 
rod or stick, of sufficient length to reach quite across the 
butt at its thickest part. It was plain to me, that by in-' 
serting such a stick into a hole in one side of the cask, 
and passing it on till it touched the staves on the other 
side, at a point diametrically opposite, I could thus obtain 
the exact measurement of the diameter of that part of 
the vessel, — since the portion of the rod reaching from 
side to side would be the diameter itself. The diameter 
once obtained, it needed only to multiply by three to 
get the circumference. But, in the calculation which I 
was desirous of making, it was the diameter itself I 
wanted to find, and not the circumference. I only 
thought of the latter, because, under ordinary circum- 
stances, when a cask is bunged up, it is easier to meas- 
ure the circumference of the swell ^han its diameter. 

In no case does it signify which, — as the figure three 
will always reduce the one to the other ; near enoup^h 
8 * 


178 


THE BOY TAR 


for most practical purposes, though not mathematically 
exact. 

Now, it so chanced that one of the holes I had cut 
through the staves had been made in the very middle 
of the swell, where the butt was thickest. Therefore, a 
straight stick passed into this hole, and pushed on till it 
touched the opposite side, would give the greatest diam- 
eter of the cask. 

You may imagine that this might have been obtained 
by simply planting the stick in a vertical position outside 
the butt, and notching it at a point on a level with the 
top of the vessel. True, this might have been done, had 
I been operating with a barrel lying upon a* plain sur- 
face, with nothing around it to obstruct me, and plenty 
of light to observe the true level. Even thus it would 
have been rough guesswork, and not to be depended 
on when a calculation was to be made involving life or 
' death in its consequences, — for such it really did in- 
volve, — at least, I supposed so. But the butt was so 
placed, resting upon the timbers of the ship, with its 
swollen side sunk between them, that I could not have 
measured it in this manner. Even though I might have 
marked a rod on a line with its top, I could not have 
planted the other end so as to be on a level with its 
base. 

There seemed no other way to get at the thing than 
by inserting a straight stick into the hole, and thus 
measure the diameter ; nor did I trouble myself about 
any other, as this appeared to be the best plan I could 
adopt. 

N Where was I to find my stick, — my measuring rule ? 

Tliat is your question, is it not? 


MY MEASURING RULE. ^9 

• It is easily answered. The deal board tha had 
ft-imed part of the biscuit-box would supply m* with 
the material, and out of that I could soon make one. 
No sooner thought of, than I set about it. 

Ths board was but a little over two feet in length, 
and of course not long enough to reach across the great 
cask, which, at its thickest part, appeared four or five 
But a very little ingenuity sufiiced to overcome this 
obstacle. I should only have to split off three thin 
pieces, and by splicing their ends together, I should get 
a stick of length sufficient. 

I did so. Fortunately, the deal was cut nicel/ with 
the grain of the wood ; and in splitting it, I guid d the 
blade of my knife so as not to let it run out at the edges. 

I succeeded in getting three pieces of the thicluess I 
wanted ; and, after shaving oflP their angles, and making 
them clean and trim, I cut their ends with a slant for 
the splice. 

The next thing was to obtain two pieces of string, 
and this was the easiest thing in the world. I wore 
upon my feet a pair of little “ buskins ” that laced up 
to the very ankle. The laces were thongs of calfskin, 
each of them a full yard long. They were just the 
thing ; and, drawing them out of the holes, I completed 
the splicing, and now held in my hands a straight stick 
full five feet in length, — quite long enough, I con- 
ceived, to reach across the thickest part of the butt, 
and slender enough to go into the hole, — which 1 had 
already widened a little to receive it. 

“ So far good,” thought I ; “ I shall now insert the 
measuring stick and find my diameter.” 

I rose to my feet to carry out this design, but I need 


180 


THE BOY TAR. 


not describe the mortification I felt on perceiving tlat the 
first of these operations, — which would appear to be the 
simplest of all, — could not be performed. At the first 
trial I saw that it was quite impossible. It was not 
because the hole was too small, or the stick too large. 

I had made no mistake about this ; but my miscalcula- 
tion was in regard to the space in which I had to work. 
Lengthways, my little chamber was nearly six feet ; but 
crossways, little more than two ; and up where the hole 
was — in which I intended to insert the measuring rod 
— it was still less. Of course to get the stiff piece of 
stick into the cask was plainly impossible — without 
bending it, so that it must break, — for the dry deal 
would have snapped through like the shank of a clay 
pipe. \ 

I was a good deal chagrined at not having thought 
of this before ; but I was still more vexed at the idea 
of being obliged to abandon the design of making the 
measurement I had intended ; for, befoie reflecting, I 
believed that this was to be the result. A little further 
consideration, however, helped to a new plan, proving 
the importance of not arriving too hastily at conclusions. 

I discovered a way of getting in the stick to its full 
length, without either breaking or bending it. 

This could be effected by taking it to pieces again, 
then first inserting one of the pieces, and holding it till 
the second could be spliced on to its end, and then push- 
ing both into the cask, and joining the third piece in a 
similar fashion. 

About this there appeared no difficulty, and the re- 
sult proved there was none, — for in less than five min-“ 
ute? after conceiving it, I had carried the design into 


A 


MY MEASURING RULE. 181 

execution, and the measuring rod stood inside the bar- 
rel, with one end projecting some inches on the outside. 

Holding this end carefully in my hand, I caused the 
other to play about on the opposite side, until I felt con- 
vinced that it touched the point that was exactly vis-d^ 
vis with the aperture ; and then, steadying the stick, J 
notched it with my knife, on a level with the outer sur- 
face of the stave. To calculate from this notch would 
not be correct, as it v-ould be more than the diameter 
of the cask, — that is, in reference to what, it would 
contain, — but I had no intention of doing so. I should 
make allowance for the thickness of the stave, and that 
would give me the measurement I wanted. 

Having made my mark, I drew forth my measuring 
rod, piece by piece, as it had been plunged in. I took 
care as I did so to notch both the splices, — so that I 
might be able to put them together again in the exact 
place where they had been while making the measure- 
ment. All this attention to such minute particulars was 
of importance, and I knew it to be so, — for the mistake 
of even a quarter of an inch in the length of my diam- 
eter, would cause a difference of many gallons in the 
result. Most certainly, then, was it of consequence that 
I should be precise in my data. 

I now had the diameter of the swell ; the next thing 
was to get that of the head, or end. About this there 
was less difficulty, — in fact, not any. It was obtained 
in a few seconds. 

Though I could not myself get round either of the 
ends of the butt, nor even my arm, I could pass the rod 
around them, and in this way measure them. Even 
bad there not been space to admit the measuring stick 


182 


THE BOY TAR. 


I should have found a means, — by simply drilling 
another hole with my knife, close to either end, and 
guaging as before. But this would have occupied time 
and it was not necessary to do so, since the stick passed 
along the head of the butt, without any obstruction, till 
its* end rested against the projecting rim on the opposite 
side. I had nothing to do but assure myself that its 
point was fair in the middle, and then make my mark 
as before. 

The length of the butt was yet to be ascertained; 
and this, though apparently a simple operation, cost me 
a good deal of consideration, before I could get at it 
with any degree of exactness. You may fancy that it 
would have been easy enough to get at the length, by 
just placing the stick parallel to the cask, and notching 
it square with the ends of the latter. And so it might 
be easy enough, with plenty of light around you to see 
when it was square, and a level surface upon which to 
rest your measure. But as I had the advantage neither 
of light nor level ground, I encountered g.eat difficulty 
in this operation. I could not tell when the ends lay 
even with each other, merely by the touch. I had to 
pass my lingers from one to the other, and could not 
grasp both at one time, — that is, the rim of the cask 
and the end of the rod, — since they must needs be 
several inches apart. The stick, too, lay unsteady, and 
by the feel I could not be sure when its end was exactly 
“ flush ” with the head of the cask. The mistake of an 
inch — it might be several — would falsify all my com- 
putations, and render them of no use. It would not do 
to proceed upon such a conjectural basis, and for a 
while I was puzzled, and had to pause. 


183 


MY MEASURING RULE. 

This was an unexpected obstacle, for I had, from the 
firot, regarded the diameters as the only difficulty; about 
the possibility of obtaining the length, I had never en- 
tertained a doubt. 

But my wits again came to the rescue, and I soon 
discovered a plan that would effect the end in view 
I had to make another rod, — by splicing two more 
lengths split from the board, — and with this I was able 
to determine the point. 

I managed the matter thus : The old rod I pushed 
along the head of the cask, quite beyond its outer edge, 
BO that it rested at both ends against the projecting rim. 
Thus placed, it was exactly parallel with the plane of 
the barrel’s head, while a foot or more projected out- 
ward and towards me. Holding the end of the second 
rod against this projecting part, and at right angles, I 
gave it a direction along the side of the cask, and I was 
able to mark the point where the middle part jof the 
swell came in contact with the second rod. This, of 
course, — after deducting the depth of the rim and the 
presumed thickness of the head, — gave me half the 
length of the interior of the cask, and that was all I 
wanted, since two halves make one whole.- 

T was now in possession of the data of my problem t 
it or ly remained for me to seek the solution. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


“QUOD ERAT FACIENDUM.” 

To find the cubic contents of the butt, in I'eet oi 
m3hes, and afterwards reduce them to liquid measure. — 
to gallons or quarts, — would have been easy enough, 
and only required a simple computation in figures. I 
knew that I was arithmetician enough to make this com- 
putation, even though I possessed neither pen nor paper, 
slate nor pencil ; and if I had, there was no light by 
which I could have used them. “ Ciphering,” therefore, 
in the 'ordinary way, was out of the question ; but I had 
often practised myself in casting up accounts by a men- 
tal process, and I could add and subtract, multiply or 
divide a considerable series of figures without the aid 
of either pen or pencil. The problem I had before me 
would involve but a limited number of figures, and I 
felt satisfied I could easily manage it, — so far as that 
was concerned. 

I have said tl'.at it would have been a simple and easy 
computation to find the contents of the cask, in cubic feet 
or inches. Would have heen^ supposes that there was a 
difficulty, — and there was one. An important prehm- 
inary matter had to be settled before I could enter upon 
any calculation, — a very important one ; and that was, 
that I had not yet reduced my measurements — neitlu**' 


<iLOD ERAT FACIENDUM.'^ 


180 


whe diameters nor the length — to feet and inches ! 1 

had measured the cask with plain pieces of stick, and 
had registered the dimensions in simple notches ; but 
what of this ? I knew not what distance these notches 
might be from the end, or from each other, — how many 
feet or inches ! I might make a rude guess, but that 
would be of no service to me ; so that after all my pains 
I had as yet no data to go upon, nor could I have any 
until I had first measured my 7heasuring rods themselves! 

Apparently, here was a difficulty not to be got over. 
Considering that I had no standard of measurement 
within reach, — neither yard-stick, nor foot-rule, nor 
graduated scale of any kind, — you will naturally con- 
clude that I must have abandoned the problem. A 
computation founded on the mere length of the stick 
would have been absurd, and could have given me no 
information whatever upon the point about which I 
wanted to be informed. To find the cubic and liquid 
contents of the cask, I must first have its length, with 
its largest and shortest diameters, expressed in standard 
terms, — that is, either in feet or inches, or some other 
divisions of a scale. 

And how, I ask, was this to be 'ascertained, when I 
possessed no standard of measurement about my per- 
son 1 None whatever. 1 could not make one ; for in 
order to do so, I should have required another for a 
guide. Of course, I could not guess the length either 
of feet or inches. 

How, then, was I to proceed 1 

Apparently, the difficulty was not to be got over. 
The thing seemed impracticable. 

To you it may seem so, but it did not to me. I had 


186 


THE BOY TAR. 


thought of this before. I should not have proceeded ai 
far as I had done> — taking so much pains and trouble 
with the splitting and splicing of ray sticks, and making 
my measurements so exact, — had I not foreseen this 
difficulty, and thought of a way to surmount it. All 
this had been prospectively arranged. I knew before- 
hand that I could measure my sticks, and tell their linear 
dimensions to the exactness of an inch. 

“How?” 

Thus, then : — 

When I said just a little ago, that I had no standard 
about my person, I spoke the truth only literally. Al- 
though not exactly about ray person, I had one in my 
person, — I was myself that standard ! You will now 
remember my having submitted myself to a measure- 
ment, which showed me to be four feet in length. Of 
what value that knowledge now proved to me 1 

Knowing, then, ray own height to be very nearly four 
feet, I could notch off that measure upon one of the 
sticks, which would give me a measuring rule of four 
feet in length. 

I proceeded to obtain this result without delay. The 
process was simple and easy. Laying myself horizon- 
tally, I planted my feet against one of the great ribs of 
the ship, and rested the end of the stick between them. 
I now stretched myself out at full length, and guiding the 
rod so as to keep it parallel to the axis of my body, I 
brought it across my forehead, and beyond. With my 
fingers I could tell the point that was opposite the crowu 
of my head, and carefully marking this point, I after- 
wards notched it with the knife. I now possessed a four- 
foot rule, exact enough for my purpose. 


“QUOD BEAT FACIENDUM."’ 187 

But there were difficulties yet to be encuyntered 
With a four-foot rule, I was but little advanced towards 
ray computation. I might make a nearer approach te 
the measurement of my diameters, but that would not 
avail. I must know them exactly. I must know them 
m inches, and even fractions of inches ; for, as I have 
said, an error of half an inch in some of my data would 
make a difference of gallons in the result. How, then, 
was I to divide a four-foot stick into inches, and register 
the inches upon its edge ? How was this to be done ? 

It seems simple enough. The half of my four feet — 
already ascertained — would give me two feet ; and the 
half of that again would reduce the standard in a foot. 
This again notched in the middle would make two 
lengths of six inches each. Then I could subdivide 
those into lengths of three inches, which, if not small 
enough for my calculation, could be still further subdi- 
vided into three equal parts, each of which would be 
the desired minimum of an inch. 

Yes, — all this seems easy enough in theory, but how 
was it to be put in practice upon a piece of plain straight 
stick, and in the midst of as perfect darkness as that 
which surrounds a blind man ? How was I to find the 
exact middle — for it must be exact — of even the four 
feet, — much less divide and subdivide till I got down to 
/he inches ? 

I confess that I was puzzled for awhile, and had to 
pause and reflect. 

Not very long, however ; I was soon able to get over 
this trifling obstacle. 

The plan that first suggested itself was to cut a third 
piece of stick, of a little over two feet in length, which 


188 


THE BOY TAR, 


I could easily guess at within a few inches. This 1 
could apply alongside of my four-foot rule, beginning a'f 
the end, and proceeding as if I was measuring the lat- 
ter with the former. Of course, on the first application, 
two lengths would r^ch from the end of the rule to the 
notch that marked the four feet length, and perhaps ex- 
tend a little beyond. I should then shorten the measure 
and apply it again. This time its end would have ap- 
proached nearer to the aforesaid notch. Another bit 
cutoff would bring it still nearer; and the process being 
repeated, by shaving gradually from the end of the 
stick, I should at last find that two lengths of it would 
exactly correspond with the length of my four-foot rule. 
I should then have a piece exactly two feet in length, 
and by the help of this I could find the middle part of 
the longer piece, and could mark it with a “ nick.” 

By cutting the short piece into two nearly equal parts, 
I could then take the larger of them, and, by a similar 
process, obtain the standard of a foot, and mark it also 
upon my rule ; and so on till I had succeeded in arriv- 
ing at the inches. 

Of course, to do all this would require time, patience, 
and the nicest precision ; but I had plenty of time upon 
my hands, and it was my interest to be both patient and 
precise. 

Although I regarded not the time, just as I was about 
to carry out the plan described, another suggested itself 
that promised to lead me sooner to the issue ; it would 
call for less patience, though an equal amount of pre- 
cision. 

This new plan was a sort of corollary of the former 
>fMe, — the only difference being, that instead of a stich 


“QUOD ERAT FACIENDUM.” 189 

I should perform my subdivision and graduation with a 
tiring. 

The thongs of my buskins came into my mind, — the 
very thing ! 

I could nDt have found a better string for the purpose. 
They were strips of best calfskin, cut with the grain, 
and could not have been stretched the eighth part of an 
inch. They would, therefore, measure as accurately as 
a rule of boxwood or ivory. 

One would not be long enough ; so I knotted the two 
together, taking care to make 2 neat, firm knot of it. 
They made a string of over four feet, and having laid 
it along the four-foot rule, I cut it with my knife to that 
length exactly. I was not satisfied till I had measured 
it over and over again, each time pulling the thong with 
all my strength, lest some “ kink ” might be lurking in 
it. A slight error would derange my intended scale, — 
though there is less danger in graduating four feet down 
to inches, than in going from the less to the greater 
standard. In the former, each subdivision naturally 
lessens the error, while in the latter it is continually 
doubled. 

When convinced that I had got the thong to the pre- 
cise length, I placed its two ends together, and then 
dra\^'ing it with a firm pull through my fingers, I creased 
it exactly in the middle. Holding it taut upon the blade 
of my knife, I cut through at the crease, and thus di- 
vided it into two moieties of equal length, each two feet 
long. The part with the knot I laid aside as being no 
longer needed,, and the remaining half I again doubled, 
and cut into two. This gave me two pieces each a foot 
in length. 


190 


THE BOY TAR, 


One of these I next folded in triple, and creased foi 
cutting as before. This was a delicate operation, and 
required all the skill of my fingers to accomplish, — for 
it is much easier to divide a string into two equal parts 
than into three. I was a good long time before I could 
get it trebled to my satisfaction ; but I succeeded at 
length, and then severed the parts. 

My object in thus cutting into three, was to get the 
pieces in even fractions of four inches each, in order 
that by two more doublings I might arrive more accu- 
rately at the inch. 

And in two more doublings I found it. 

To make sure that I had committed no error, I took 
up the knotted piece, which I had laid aside, and after 
placing the other fragments where they could be got at, 
I reduced the second half of the string as I had done 
the first. 

To my gratification, the inch I obtained from both 
exactly corresponded. There was not a hair’s breadth 
of difference ! __ 

I was now in possession of a guide to the true gradu- 
ation of my measuring stick. I had pieces of one foot, 
of four inches, of two, and of one ; and by the help of 
these I proceeded to mark my rod after the manner of 
a draper’s yardstick. 

It occupied some time, ' for I worked with care and 
caution ; but my patience was rewarded by finding my- 
self in possession of a measure upon which I could rely 
— even in a calculation involving the question of my 
life. 

I was not much longer in deciding the point. The 
diameters were now measured by feet and inches, and 


“ QUOD ERAT FACIENDUTVI.” 191 

the mtan of the two taken. This was reduced to sur- 
face measure by the usual method of squaring the circle 
(multiplying by eight, and dividing by ten). This gave 
the base of the hollow cylinder, — which would be equal 
to the frustum of' a cone of like altitude, — and another 
multiplication by the length produced the entire cubic 
content. 

Dividing by sixty-nine, I got the number of quarts, 
and so gallons. 

The butt, when full, had contained somewhat above 
one hundred gallons, — as near as I could calculate, 
about one hundred and eight, — and therefore it was m 
ell likelihood an old pipe that had once contained sherry. 


CHAPTER XXXIT. 


THE HORROR OF DARKNESS. 

The result of my calculation was of the most satis- 
factory nature. Eighty gallons of water would give 
half a gallon each day for one hundred and sixty days' 
or a quart per diem for three hundred and twenty days, 
— nearly a whole year ! Surely I could subsist on a 
quart a day, — surely the voyage could not last for sc 
long a period as three hundred and twenty days ? A 
ship might sail round the world in dess time. I remem- 
bered having been told so, and it was fortunate I re- 
membered it, for my mind was now at ease on the score 
of water. For all that, I resolved not to drink more 
than a quart a day, and on this allowance I made no 
doubt that the supply would be sufficient. 

There was more danger of running short of food ; 
but, upon the whole, I now felt very little apprehension, 
as I had fully resolved to diet myself on the most eco- 
nomic scale. 

So far, then, as food and drink were concerned, I felt 
nc further uneasiness. It was well assured that I was 
not to die either of thirst or starvation ; and the very 
remarkable manner in which both food and drink had 
been supplied — placed, as it were, before me — natu- 
rally led me to the reflection that the hand of Provi 


THE HORROR OF DARKNESS. 


193 


deuce had been extended to aid me, and T was still 
further consoled with the hope that He who had thus 
mercifully preserved me for the present, would not for- 
sake me in the future. . 

In this state of feeling I continued for several days, 
and although it was an irksome life — every hour seem- 
ing of itself a day — still I was able to endure it. 
Sometimes I endeavored to kill time by counting not 
only the hours, but even the minutes and seconds ; and 
in this occupation (for I could think of no other) I often 
passed several hours at a time. My watch enabled 
me to amuse myself in this manner, and I found com- 
panionship in its cheerful ticking. I fancied that it 
beat louder than 1 had ever before heard it, and most 
likely this was so — the sound being magnified by the 
wooden walls that surrounded my cell. I took care 
never to let the watch go to the full length of its chain, 
lest it might run down and derange my reckoning. Not 
that I cared to know the hour. That was of no con- 
sequence. I did not even know w^hether it was night 
r day by the watch, nor would it have mattered had I 
not known the one from the other, as the brightest sun 
could not have lent a ray of his light to cheer my dun- 
geon. It chanced, however, that I did know the night 
from the day. No doubt you will wonder how I came 
by this knowledge — since I had kept no time for the 
first hundred hours after getting aboard, and there was 
then, in the complete darkness that surrounded me, no 
means of distinguishing the one from the other. I had 
a means of telling, however, and it was this : During 
all my life I had been trained to the habit of going to 
bed at a particular hour — ten o’clock at night — and 
9 


/ 


194 . . THE BOY TAR. 

also of rising at six exactly. This was a rule in my 
father’s house, as well as that of my uncle — in the lat 
ter, indeed, I was compelled to observe it with a stern 
exactitude. The consequence of this habit was, that 
whenever the hour of ten drew nigh, I naturally felt the 
inclination for sleep ; and the habit had grown so fixed, 
that, notwithstanding the change of circumstances, it 
still continued. This I was not slow to observe. 1 
felt the desire to sleep come upon me at regular pe- 
riods, and I concluded, therefore, that whenever I had 
this feeling upon me it was about ten o’clock of the 
night. I had discovered, too, by registering the time 
with my watch, that I usually slept about eight hours,- 
and then I felt no desire to remain asleep any longer. 
When I awoke it would be six in the morning ; and, in 
this belief, I regulated my watch to that hour. So con- 
vinced was I of these facts, that I felt confident I could 
have counted the days without the watch ; but fearing 
- that some change might occur in my habitual hours of 
rest, in consequence of the altered circumstances in 
which I was placed, I resolved always to keep the time- 
piece going. Ever before lying down to sleep, I took 
the precaution to wind it up to the full length of its 
chain, and on awaking I repeated the operation — so that 
there might be no danger of even a moment’s stoppage 
Though satisfied that I could tell night from day, I 
have said that it mattered little, or not at all. It was 
of importance, however, that 1 should know when each 
twenty-four hours had ended, — for it was only by that 
means I could have any knowledge of the progress of 
the voyage. I took especial care to count the hours 
and whenever I perceived that the hour-hand had com 


THE HORROR OF DARKNESS. 


195 


pleted two circuits around the dial, I cut a fresh notch 
in a piece of stick, set aside for this' especial purpose, 
I need not say that my registry was kept with the great- 
est care. The only part of it on which I could not de 
pend was that referring to the first days after my de- 
parture, when I had taken no notice whatever* of the 
time that had passed. By guess I had put down four 
notches against those days and nights, and I afterwards 
found that my memorandum was correct. 

Thus for several days — nearly a week — passed I 
the hours, — the long hours — long, and dark, and irk- 
some ; ever more or less miserable, at times sadly do 
jected but ’'never positively despairing. 

Strange to say, my greatest misery arose from the ab- 
sence of light. I had at first suffered from my cramped 
position, and also from lying upon the hard oak timber ; 
but I got used to these incoj veniences. Besides, for the 
hardness of my bed I soon discovered a remedy. I had 
observed that the box which stood upon the other side of 
my biscuit-house contained some sort of stuff that had 
the feel of woollen goods. On further examination, it 
proved to be broadcloth, closely packed in large webs as 
it had come from the manufactory. This suggested an 
idea that was likely to contribute to my comfort ; and I 
set about putting it into execution. After removing the 
biscuits out of my way, I enlarged the hole (which I 
had ^ready made in the side of the cloth-box) to such 
an extent that I was able — not without much labor, 
however — to detach one* of the pieces, and draw it 
out ; and then with less trouble I pulled forth another 
and another, until I had as much as would serve my 
purpose. I was two hours in completing this opera- 
tion, but having got possession of the »^*loth, and shaken 


196 


THE Bor TAR. 

it out of its hard foldings, I procured both carpet and 
couch soft enough for a king to rest upon ; and perhaps 
as costly too, — for I could feel that I was handling an 
article that was “ superfine.” I did not use more of it 
than was absolutely required to cover the hard oaken 
planks. Its bulk would have inconvenienced me had I 
tiiken much of it from the box ; and before spreading it 
out, I had to clear the way, by returning all the biscuits 
to their old repository. 

Having spread my costly couch, I lay down upon it 
and felt a great deal more comfortable than I had yet 
done. 

But I still longed for light more than for anything 
else. It is difficult to conceive the misery of existence 
under complete darkness ; and I could now well compre- 
hend the reason why the “ dungeon ” has always been 
regarded as the most awful punishment which a pris- 
oner can be made to endure. No wonder men’s hair has 
turned gray, and their senses have forsaken them, under 
such circumstances, — for in truth darkness is as hard to 
endure as if light were essential to our existence. 

I thought that if I only had a light, I could have 
passed the time without thinking it half so long. The 
darkness appeared to me to double the. duration of 
the hours, — as though it was something physical and 
substantial that clogged the wheels of my watch, and 
hindered the motion of time itself. Amorphous dark- 
ness ! I fancied it gave me pain, — a pain that light 
would at once have alleviated ; and sometimes I felt as 
I had once done before, when laid upon a sick couch 
counting over the long drear hours of the night, and 
anxiously watching for the day. In this way slowly, 
and far from pleasantly, did time pass on. 


CHAPTER XXXni. 


THE STORM. 

More than a week had I spent under this tedious 
cionotony of existence. The only sound that reached 
my ears was the hoarse rushing of the waves above me. 
Above me, — for I knew that I was far down amid 
their depths, far below the surface of the sea. At long 
intervals only, I could distinguish other noises, — like a 
thumping upon the decks as if some heavy object was 
being moved about, and no doubt such was the cause of 
it. In calm weather I sometimes fancied I could hear 
the bell calling the men upon their watches, but I was- 
not sure of this. At all events, the sound appeared so 
distant and indistinct, that I could not positively say it 
was a bell; and if so, it was only during the calmest 
weather I could hear it. 

I speak of calm weather, for I knew perfectly when 
there were changes. I could tell the breeze, the gale, 
the storm, — when they commenced and when they 
ended, — ^"just as well as if I had been upon deck. The 
rolling of the ship, and the creaking of her timbers, 
were gDod indices as to how the wind blew, or whether 
it was rough or mild weather. On the sixth day — thai 
is, the tenth from departure, but the sixth of my regis 


198 


THE BOY TAR. 


\ 


ler — wc encountered a regular storm. It lasted f'oi 
two days and a night ; and must have been a terribly 
severe one, as it shook the timbers of the vcsscd as 
though it would have torn them asunder. At times I 
really thought that the great ship was going to piee-es ; 
and the noises made by huge boxes and casks strik- 
ing and grinding against each other, or knocking vio- 
lently upon the sides and bulwarks of the ship itself, 
was sufficiently temble. At intervals, too, I could dis- 
tinguish the sound of big waves, — “ seas,” as the sail- 
ors call them, — breaking against the vessel with awful 
crash, as if a huge trip-hammer or battering-ram had 
been directed with full force against the timbers of the 
ship. 

I had no doubt that the vessel was in danger of being 
wrecked; and under this belief you may fancy my sit- 
uation. I need not tell you that I was in fear. When 
I thought that we should go to the bottom of the sea, 
and I situated as I was, — shut in on all sides as if in a 
coffin, — with no chance to move, not even to make an 
effort to save myself by swimming, how could it bo oth- 
erwise with me than a time of great fear ? Had I been 
upon deck and free, I am certain I should not have 
been half so frightened at that storm. 

To increase my misery, the sea-sickness had returned 
upon me — for this is usually the case with those who 
go to sea on a first voyage. A great storm encountered 
brings a return of the nauseous malady, often as dis- 
agreeably vigorous as that experienced during the first 
twenty-four hours at sea. This is accounted for very 
eiisily — it is simply the consequence of the more vio- 
lent rocking of the ship while buffeted by the storm. ' 


THE STORM. 


199 


For nearly forty hours the gale continued, and then 
there succeeded a perffect calm. 1 knew this to be the 
ease, because I no longer heard the seething sound 
which usually betokens that the ship is moving through 
the water. But notwithstanding that the wind had 
ceased to blow, the vessel kept tumbling about ; and 
her timbers creaked, and boxes and barrels rolled and 
knocked each other, as badly as ever. This was occa- 
sioned by the “ swell ” which always succeeds a heavy 
gale, and which is sometimes as dangerous to vessels as 
the stormy weather itself. In a very heavy swell the 
masts are sometimes broken, and the ship thrown upon 
her beam-ends — a catastrophe ever dreaded by sailors. 

The swell gradually subsided, until, in about twenty- 
four hours after, it had ceased altogether, and the vessel 
appeared to glide along more smoothly than ever. The 
nauseating sickness took its departure about the same 
time, and I felt the reaction of health, which produced 
a little cheerfulness within me. As my fears had kept 
me awake during the whole time the storm was raging, 
and as I had continued ill so long as the violent rocking 
prevailed, I was quite worn out — so that the moment 
things were smooth again, I fell off into a profound 
slumber. 

1 had dreams that were nearly as terrible as the real- 
ities through which I had been passing. In fact, I 
dreamt what but the hours before I had been dreading. 
I dreamt that I was being browned, and just under the 
circumstances in which I was — shut up in the hold 
without the chance of swimming a stroke for my life. 
Nay more, I dreamt that I actually was drowned, and 
lying at the bottom of the sea — that I was dead, but 


200 


THE BOY TAR. 


not unconscious. On the contrary, I could see weBi 
around me, and perceived, among other things, horrible 
green monsters — crabs or lobsters — crawling towards 
me, as if with the design of tearing me with their hide 
ous claws, and feasting on my flesh ! One, in particular, 
drew my attention, larger and more .spiteful-looking than 
the rest, and closer to me than any. Each instant, too, 
hr was drawincj nearer and nearer. I thouo:ht he had 
reached my hand, and I could feel him crawling upon 
it. I could feel the cold harsh touch as he dragged his 
.unwieldy shape over my fingers, but I could not move 
either hand or finger to cast him off. 

On he came over my wrist and straight up my arm, 
which was lying outstretched from my body. He ap- 
peared as if determined to attack me in the face or the 
throat. I read his intention to do so from the eagerness 
with wliicli he advanced, but despite the horror I felt, I 
could do nothing to repel him. I could not move hand 
or arm — not a muscle of my body. How could I, 
since I was drowned and dead ? “ Ha ! he is on my 

breast — at my very throat — he will soon clutch me — 
ha ! ” 

I awoke with a shriek, and started upward. 1 would 
have risen to my feet, had there been room to stand 
erect. As it was, there was not room ; and a blow 
whi:h I received by dashing my head against the great 
oak rib of the vessel, brought me back to my couch, 
and, after some moments, to a consciousness of my 
situation. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


A NOVEL DRINKING-CUP. 

Notwithstanding that it was all a dream, and 
that no crab could possibly have crept up my arm — 
notwithstanding that I was now awake, and knew I had 
been only dreaming about it — I could not help fancy- 
ing that a crab actually had been crawling over me — a 
crab or some other creature. I felt that peculiar tin- 
gling sensation along my ami and upon' my breast — 
which was quite open and bare — that might be pro- 
duced by the claws of some small animal creeping over 
one, and I could not help thinking that there had been 
something ! 

So convinced was I of this, that on awaking I flung 
out my arms mechanically, and groped all over the 
spread broadcloth, and around the edges of my lurk- 
ing-place, expecting to lay them upon some living crea- 
ture ! 

Half asleep, I still believed it was a crab ; but as my 
senses became clearer, I reasoned upon the improbabil- 
ity of there being one in such a place. And yet, why 
not ? A crab might' very well find lodgment in the 
hold of a ship ; it might have been brought aboard in 
some strange way — among the ballast — or possibly 
9 * 


r 


202 THE BOY TAR. 

<rarried aboard by some of the sailors, out of curiosity 
it may have been abandoned to its fate, and left to hide 
itself among the numerous corners and crevices which 
are found among the timbers of a vessel’s hold ? It 
might procure sustenance in the bilge-water, or in the 
ballast rubbish, or perhaps, like the chameleon, ci’abs 
oould exist on air / 

I had such thoughts, but only for a few moments after 
awaking ; ^and as I reasoned further on the matter, I 
abandoned them. It could only be my dream that had 
made me think of crabs at all. But for that, the 
thought of such a creature would not have entered my 
mind. There could have been no crab, else I should 
have laid my hands upon it ; for I had lost no time in 
groping over the surface of my cloth carpeting — every 
inch of it — and I found nothing there. There were 
but two crevices leading out of my cell, by which a 
crab of any considerable size could have entered or 
escaped ; and I had felt these places at the .very first 
moment. So slow a traveller could not have passed 
through either of them in so short a time ! .No, there 
could have been no crab ; and yet there was something^ 
certainly — something had crawled over me. I could 
not be convinced of the contrary. 

I lay for a long time pondering over the subject of * 
my dream. The unpleasant feeling which it had occa- 
sioned me soon passed away. It was very natural I 
should have dreamt what I did, since it was almost the 
same thing I had been thinking of during the continu- 
ance of the storm. 

On examining my watch, I found that I had consid- 
erably overslept myself. — having been unconscious for 




A NOVEL DRINKING-CUP. 


203 


oearly sixteen hours ! This prolonged slumber was the 
result of my having been kept so long awake by the 
storm, and the sickness that it had occasioned me. 

I now felt more hungry than I had done for days, 
and at once set about satisfying that appetite. Strive 
as I would, I could not resist the temptation of sating 
more than my allotted ration, and I did not leave off* 
till J had eaten four of my precious biscuits. I had 
been told that nothing creates so keen an appetite as a 
tuni of sea-sickness, and I found this to be truth. 
Indeed, I felt as if I could have consumed the whole of 
my stock, and the four biscuits I ate scarcely took the 
edge well off* my hunger. Nothing but the dread of run- 
ning short hindered me from eating three times as many. 

I was also in great thirst, and swallowed far more 
than my allowance of water ; but I was not so careful 
of this, as I believed it would be quite sure to last me 
to the end of the voyage. One thing about the water 
troubled me not a little. Each time that I went to take 
a drink, a considerable waste took place, in consequence 
of my having no vessel to draw it in ; and, moreover, 
to drink from the hole I had made was altogether an 
unsatisfactory way of quenching my thirst. As soon 
as the peg was drawn out, a strong jet would shoot 
forth, to which I applied my mouth. But I could not 
swallow it as fast as it came, and it was sure, — after 
taking away my breath, and half choking me, — tc 
squirt all over my face, wetting my clothes and every* 
thing else about me, before I could get the stopper back 
into its place. 

If I only had had a vessel to draw it in — a cup oi 
anything ? 


204 


THE BOY TAR. 


I thought of using one of my buskins, for I had n4 
need for them otherwise ; but I felt some qualms about 
making this use of them, 

I should not have hesitated to have drank out of them, 
or any other vessel, when pressed by thirst previous to 
my having tapped the butt ; but now that I had water 
in plenty, the case was different. Still, I could get one 
of them sufficiently clean for the purpose. Better 
thought I, to waste a little water in washing one of 
them, than lose a large quantity every time I went to 
drink. 

I w'as about to put this design into execution, when a 
better idea came into my head — that was to make a 
drinking-cup out of a piece of broadcloth. This was 
altogether better. I had already observed that the cloth 
was water-proof — at least, the water that w^as spilt from 
the butt appeared to lie upon it without passing through 
— for I had been obliged to shake it off on each occa- 
sion. A piece of the cloth, therefore, formed into a cup 
shape, would be likely enough to serve my purpose ; 
and accordingly I resolved to make me such a vessel. 

Tt needed only to cut a broad strip with my knih), 
roll it up, as if I was intending it for a funnel, — taking 
care to fold it of several thicknesses of the cloth. 
When rolled, I bound it in its place with a fragment of 
the thong from my buskins, and I thus succeeded in 
making me a drinking-vessel, which would, and did^ 
serve me as w^ell as if it had been of best china or 
glass. I was henceforth enabled to take a drink more 
to my satisfaction, and without wasting the preoioui 
fluid upon which my life depended. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 

As I had eaten so many biscuits for br^aKfast 1 in* 
tended to make breakfast serve me for that day but, 
hungering as I was, I could not carry out my good 
intent. About mid-day, I found myself groping at the 
box, and the result was, that I abstracted anotlier bis- 
cuit. I resolved, however, to eat only half of it for 
dinner, and keep the other half for supper. 

Following out this resolution, I broke the biscuit 
across the middle, and laid one half aside. The other I 
ate, washing it down with a little more water. 

You may think it strange that I did not fancy a little 
brandy along with it, — which I might have had without 
any trouble, since there were at least an hundred gallons 
of it within reach. The brandy, however, was nothing 
to me ; and the great cask might as well have contained 
vitriol, for aught I cared for it. There were several 
reasons why I did not meddle with it. First, because I 
did not relish it ; second, because it made me feel sick, 
and nauseated both my palate and stomach. I suppose 
it had been of an inferior kind, intended, not as an arti- 
cle of commerce, but for the use of the sailors, — as 
casks of very bad brandy and rum are carried in most 


206 


THE BOY TAR. 


ships for the use of the crew. A tliird reason why 1 
kept clear of the brandy was, that I had already drank 
of it — only about one wineglassful — and it had the 
effoct of making me so thirsty, that I drank nearly half 
a gallon of water before I succeeded in fully quenching 
my thirst again. I reasoned, therefore, that if I touched 
the brandy, it would cause me, either great suffering 
from thirst, or that I should have to use more water 
than I could spare. Therefore it was, that I determined 
to abstain altogether from this alcoholic spirit. 

When my watch warned me that it was my usual 
hour to go to sleep, I resolved to eat the odd half bis- 
cuit, which I had reserved for supper ; and then “ retire 
for the night.” 

This operation consisted simply in stretching myself 
in a new position, and drawing a fold or two of the 
broadcloth over me, to keep me from getting chilled 
while asleep. 

For the first week after leaving port, I had found it 
very cold, for it was the winter season when we left 
home. The cloth, however, after it was discovered, 
enabled me to wrap up snugly enough, and I no longer 
cared for the cold. After a time, however, I began to 
perceive that the cold had quite taken hs departure, and 
each day and night the atmosphere in the hold of the 
ship appeared to be growing warmer. On the night 
after the storm had passed, it did not feel at all cold, 
and the slightest covering sufficed. 

At first, I was surprised by this sudden change in the 
state of the atmosphere ; but when I reflected a little, I 
was able to explain it to my satisfaction. “ Beyond a 
doubt,” thought I, “we have been all the while sailing 


MTSTERTOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 


207 


southward, and we are getting into the hot latitudes of 
the torrid zone.” 

I knew but little of what that meant, but I had heard 
that the torrid zone, — or the tropics, as it was also 
called, — lay to the. south of England ; and that there 
the climate was hotter than the hottest summer day at 
home. I had also heard that Peru was a southern 
country, and therefore we must be going in a southerly 
direction to reach it. 

This was a very good explanation of the warm 
weather that had set in. The ship had now been sail- 
ing for nearly two weeks ; and allowing her to have 
made two hundred miles a day (and ships, I knew, often 
go faster than that), she would at this time be a long 
way from England, and in a different climate altogether. 

Thus reasoning with myself, I contrived to pass that 
afternoon and evening, and as I felt the hands of ray 
watch indicating the hour o£4en, 1 resolved, as already 
stated, to eat the half biscuit, and then go to sleep. 

I first drew a cup of water, so that the biscuit might 
not be eaten dry ; and, this done, I stretched forth my 
hand for the bread. I knew the exact spot where it 
lay, for I had a little corner, — just alongside the great 
beam, — where I kept my knife and cup, and wooden 
almanac, — a sort of little shelf, raised by a roll of the 
cloth above the common level of my cell. There I had 
placed the half biscuit, and there, of course, I could lay 
my hand upon it as well without a light as with one 
So perfectly had I become acquainted with every cornei 
of my apartment, and every crevice leading from it. 
that I could place my finger on any given spot rf the 
size of a crown-piece, without the sliglitest deviation. 


208 


THE BOY TAR. 


I reached forth mj hand, then, to clutch the precioua 
morsel. Judge my astonishment when I touched the 
spot where I supposed it to be lying, and found it wm 
not there ! 

At first, I fancied I might be mistaken, — that per- 
haps I had not left it in the usual place on my shelf. 
There it certainly was not. 

I felt the cloth cup, for that was in my hand full of 
water. The knife was in its place, — so, too, the little 
notched stick, and the pieces of the string which I had 
used in measuring the butt, — but no half biscuit ! 

Could I have put it anywhere else? I thought not ; 
and yet, to make sure, I felt all over the bottom of my 
cell, and among the fo*lds and wrinkles of the cloth, and 
even in the pockets both of my jacket and trousers. I 
felt in my buskins too, — for these were not upon my 
feet, as I no longer needed them, but lying idle in 
corner. I left not an inch of the place that I did not 
examine — and minutely too — yet still no half biscuit 
could be found ! 

I looked carefully for it, not so much on account of 
its value ; but that its disappearance from the shelf was 
something rather strange — stranger still that I could 
nowhere lay my hand upon it. 

Had I eaten it f 

I began to fancy that I had done so. Perhaps, dur- 
ing a period of absent-mindedness, I might have swal- 
lowed it up, without ever thinking of what I was doing 
Certainly, I had no remembrance of having tasted food 
since I ate its counterpart, — the other half ; and if I 
had eaten it also, it must have done me very little good. 
I had neither enjoyed the meal, nor y(jt did my stomach 


MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 


209 


appear to have received much benefit from it, since I 
was just as hungry as if I had not tasted food that day. 

I recollected perfectly having placed it alongside the 
knife and cup ; and how could it part from the place, 
unless if had been taken away by my own hand ? I 
could n3t have thrown it accidentally from the little 
shelf, for I did not remember making a movement in 
that direction. But even so, it would still have been 
somewhere about me ? It could not get underneath the 
butt, for the crevice there was closed up, — regularly 
calked with pieces of the cloth. I had done this for 
toe purpose of making a level surface to rest upon. 

Certainly the half biscuit was not to be found. It 
was gone, — whether down my throat or in some other 
way, I could not decide, — but if the former, I thought 
to myself, what a pity I had eaten it without knowing 
what I was about, — for certainly my absence of mind 
had deprived me of all enjoyment of the meal. 

I wavered for a long while, as to whether I should 
take another biscuit out of the box, or go to bed sup- 
perless. But -the dread of the future decided me to 
abstain ; and summoning all my resolution, I drank off 
the cold water, placed my cup upon the she If, and laid 
myself down for the night 


CHAPTER XXXVL 

AN UGLT INTRUDER. 

For a long while I did not sleep, but lay thmKine 
over the mysterious disappearance of the half biscuit. 

I say mysterioiLSi for I was more than half convinced 
that I had not eaten it, but that it had gone in some 
other way ; though how, I could not even guess, since 
I was perfectly alone, the only living thing, as I sup- 
posed, in that vessel’s hold which could have touched^ 
it. Ah ! now I thought of my dream, — of the crab ! 
Perhaps, after all, there might have been a cr«b ? — 
and though it was but a dream that I was drowned, 
yet the rest might be true enough, and a crab *night 
actually have crawled over me ? It might have o^en 
the biscuit ? 

It would not be its natural food, I knew ; but shut 
up in a ship’s hold, where it could have no choice, it 
would be likely enough to eat such a thing rather thnn 
suffer starvation. There might be a crab after all ? 

Partly by such a train of reflections, and partly by 
the hungry craving of my stomach, I was kept awake 
for hours. At length I found myself going off, not in*o 
a regular sleep, but a half sleep or doze, — from which 
every two or three minutes I awoke again. 


AN UGLY INTRUDER. 


21 \ 


Jn one of those intervals, during which I lay awake, 
I fancied that I heard a noise, different from the sounds 
that habitually fell upon my ear. The ship was run- 
ning smoothly, and I could distinguish this unusual 
sound above the soft sighing of the waves. This last 
was now so slight, that the ticking of my watch ap- 
peared louder and more distinct than I had ever ob- 
served it. 

The sound which had attracted my attention, and 
which was something new to me, appeared like a gentle 
scratching. It came from the corner where my buskins 
lay empty and idle. Something was scratching at my 
^juskins ! 

The crab, to a certainty ! ** I said to myself. The 
thought at once drove away all ideas of sleep ; and J 
placed myself in an attitude to listen, and, if possible, 
lay my hands on the thievish intruder, — for I now felt 
certain that, crab or no crab, whatever creature was 
making the scratching noise was the same that had 
stolen my supper. 

Once more I heard the scraping and scratching noise. 
Certainly it proceeded from my buskins ? 

Slowly and silently I raised myself into a half upright 
position, — so that I could reach the buskins with a sin- 
gle effort, — and in this attitude I again listened for a 
repetition of the sound. 

But though I remained patient for a considerable 
time, I did not hear it again ; and I then passed my 
tands over the buskins, and around the place where 
tey were lying, but felt nothing there. They appeared 
o be just as they had been left, and nothing amiss. 

also groped over all the floor of mj cell, but with 


212 


THE BOY TAR. 


like result. Nothing was there that ought not to have 
been. 

I was not a little perplexed, and lay for a good while 
awake and listening, without hearing anything more of 
the mysterious noise. Sleep once more began to steal 
upon me, and I dropped off into a series of dozing fits 
as before. 

Once again the scraping and scratching noise falling 
upon my ear disturbed me, and caused me to lie listen- 
ing. Most surely it came from the buskins ; but when 
I moved to get within reach of them, the noise instantly 
ceased, as if I had frightened the creature that was 
making it; and, just as before, I groped everywhere 
and found nothing ! 

“ Ha ! ” muttered I to myself, “ I now know what 
has been causing all this disturbance ; no crab at all, — 
for a crab could not possibly crawl so quickly out of the 
way. The intruder is a mouse. Nothing more nor 
less. Strange I did not think of this before ! I might 
have guessed that it was a mouse, and not have made 
myself so uneasy about it. It could only be a mouse ; 
and, but for my dream, I should, perhaps, never have 
thought of its being a crab.” 

With this reflection I lay down again, — intending to 
go to sleep at once, and not trouble myself any more 
about the mouse or its movements. 

But I had scarcely settled my cheek upon the pil- 
low, when the scratching began afresh, and it now 
occurred to me that the mouse was gnawing at my 
buskins, and probably doing them a serious damage, 
^.Ithough they were of no service to me just then, 1 
could not permit them to be eaten up in this way 


AN UGLY INTRUDER. 


213 


aLil, raising myself once more, I made a dash to catch 
the mouse. 

In this I was unsuccessful. I did not even touch the 
animal ; but I thought I heard it scampering through 
the crevice that led out between the brandy-cask and 
the timbers of the ship. 

On handling the buskins, I discovered to my chagrin 
that half of the upper leather of one of them was eaten 
away ! The mouse must have been busy to have made 
so-much ruin in so short a time, — for it was but a few 
hours before that I had had the buskins in my hands, 
and I had then noticed nothing wrong with them. Per- 
haps several mice had been at work ? This was likely 
enough. 

Partly to save the buskins from total destruction, and 
partly to hinder myself from being disturbed again, I 
took them out of the corner, and placing them near 
my head, covered them up with a fold of the broad- 
cloth. This done, I once more laid myself out for a 
sleep. 

After a while the dozing fit came on me, but I was 
again awakened by a singular sensation, — as of some- 
thing crawling over me ! It appeared as if some crea- 
ture had just crept over my legs with great rapidity. 

The feeling startled me into complete wakefulness. I 
did not move, however, but lay quietly waiting to see- 
if the thing should come again. 

Of course, I concluded that it was still my mouse, 
now running about in search of the buskins. I was 
getting annoyed by its intrusion, and I knew it would 
be no use to grope for it, as it would easily escape 
through one of the crevices, as soon as it found me 


214 


TUB BOY TAR. 


moving. I determined, therefore, to lie quite still, 
let it again crawl upon me as before, and I could then 
easily seize upon it. It was not my intention to kill the 
little creature ; but I intended to give it a good squeeze, 
or pinch its ear sharply, so that it would not come 
troubling me any more. 

I lay a long while without hearing or feeling it. At 
last, however, my patience was likely to be rewarded. 
I could tell by a slight movement, in the piece of cloth 
that covered my limbs, that something was running upon 
it, and I even fancied that I heard the pattering of little 
feet. Nearer still the cloth appeared to move, until 1 
could distinctly feel a creature crawling on my ankles, 
and then upward to my thighs. It appeared heavy for 
a mouse ; but I did not stay to reflect about this, for 
now or never was the time to seize upon it ! 

Down came my hands, with fingers outstretched to 
cover it ; but, oh, horror ! what a mistake I had made ! 

Instead of the little tiny mouse, which I intended to 
clutch, my hand rested upon the body of an animal al- 
most as large as a kitten ! There was no mistaking what 
it was. Beyond doubt^ it was a great, hmrid rat 1 


CHAPTER XXXVIL 


REFLECTIONS ON RATS. 

The ugly animal left me no choice to doubt of its 
?pecies. The moment my fingers touched its smooth 
coat, I recognized it by the “ feel ; ” but I felt the wicked 
creature in a double sense, for before I could disengage 
my hand from the clutch I had so rashly taken, its sharp 
teeth had pierced my thumb, until they nearly met 
through the flesh. At the same instant its screech 
sounded in my ears shrill and terrifying ! 

I withdrew my fingers as quickly as I could, and 
flinging myself to the farthest corner of the chamber, — 
that is, the one which I thought farthest from my disa- 
greeable visitor, — there for some minutes I crouched, 
listening to hear whether the hideous animal had left me. 

I could hear nothing, and I concluded it had made a 
retreat to some other part of the ship. Most probably 
it was as badly scared as I, — though that could hardly 
have been, — and in proof that I was the more fright- 
ened of the two, the rat had the presence of mind to 
use its teeth and bite me, while I was for the moment 
quite driven out of my senses. 

In the brief encounter my antagonist had certainly 
proved victorious; for in addition to the fright he ha^ 


216 


THE BOY TAR. 




given me, he had inflicted a severe and painful wound, 
that was every moment growing more painful. I per- 
ceived that my thumb was bleeding freely, — for I 
could feel the blood running over my fingers, and glu- 
ing them to the very tips. 

I could have borne my discomfiture calmly enough — 
for what signified the bite of a rat ? but that was not 
the whole question. The thought that troubled me was, 
whether the creature had quite gone away, or whether 
it was still near, and would return ? 

The thought of its coming back again, — perhaps 
emboldened by having got off without punishment, — 
caused me very great annoyance. 

You may wonder at this, but it was really the case. 
During all my life I have had a sort of instinctive antipa- 
thy to rats, — I might even say a dread of them. This 
feeling was stronger while I was only a boy ; but, al- 
though I have since encountered animals of a much 
more dangerous character, and fought with some, I do 
not remember any that ever inspired me with more fear 
than I have felt in coming in contact with that common 
and ubiquitous creature — the rat It is a fear blended 
with a feeling of disgust ; and it is a fear not altogether 
unfounded, — for I know of many well-authenticated 
cases, in which rats have attacked human beings, and 
not a few where children, and even men, — wound- 
ed or otherwise disabled, — have actually been killed 
and devoured by these hideous omnivora. 

Many such stories had been told me while I was a 
boy ; and it was but natural I should remember them 
at that moment. I did remember them ; and under the 
influence of such memories, I felt a fear upon me very 


REFLECTIONS ON RATS. 


217 


much akin to terror. The rat, too, was one ot* the largest 
I had ever encountered, — so large that for a moment I 
could scarce believe it to be a rat. It felt as bulky as a 
half-grown cat. 

As soon as I became a little composed, I tied up my 
thumb with a rag torn from my shirt. The wound in a 
few minutes’ time had grown exceedingly painful, — for 
tkc tooth of a rat is almost as poisonous as the bite of a 
scorpion, — and small as was the scratch, I anticipated a 
good deal of suffering from it. 

I need not add that the incident had banished sleep, 
at least for a time. In reality I did not go to sleep 
again till nearly morning ; and then I awoke every min- 
ute or two with a start — from fearful dreams, in which 
the vision was either a rat or a crab making to seize me 
by the throat ! 

For hours before I slept at all, I lay listening to see 
if the brute would return ; but I did not note any signs 
of his presence for the remainder of that night. Per 
haps the squeeze I had given him, — for I had come 
down rather heavily upon him, — had frightened him 
enough to hinder a repetition of his visit. With this 
hope I consoled myself, — else it might have been still 
longer before I should have slept. 

Of course, the presence of the rat at once accounted 
for the disappearance of my half biscuit, — as well as 
for the damaged upper leather of my buskin, which 
latter had been lying at the door of his milder cousin 
the mouse. The rat, then, must have been prowling 
around me all the while, without my having known of it. 

During the hours I lay listening, before falling asleep 
again, my mind was busy with one particular thought, — 
10 


218 


THE BOY TAR. 


that was, how I should manage in case the rat should 
return ? How was I to destroy — or at all events, get 
rid of — this most unwelcome intruder ? I would at 
that moment have given a year of my life for the loan 
of a steel trap, or any trap that would take rats ; but 
since the loan of a trap was out of the question, I set 
my brains to work to invent some contrivance that would 
enable me to rid myself of my unpleasant neighbor ; 
neighbor I might call him, for I knew that his house 
was not far off, — perhaps at that moment he had his 
den not three feet from my face, — likely enough, under 
the biscuit-box or the cask of brandy. 

Cudgel my brains as I might, I could hit upon no 
plan to get hold of him, — at least, no plan to trap him 
with safety. I felt pretty sure I could lay my hands 
upon him, provided he came near enough, — just as I 
had done already ; but I was in no humor to repeat that 
performance. I knew the crevice by which he had re- 
treated. It was the aperture between the two great 
barrels, — the brandy-cask and the water-butt. 

I fancied he would return the same way, if he 
came back at all ; and it occurred to me that if I were 
to stop up all the other apertures except that one, — 
which I could easily do with pieces of cloth, — let 
him come in, and then suddenly cut off his retreat by 
calking that one also, I should have him in the trap. 
But this would be placing myself in an awkward situ- 
ation. I should be in the trap as well as he, and he no 
nearer destruction than ever, — unless I finished him 
by a hand-to-hand tussle. Of course, I knew I could 
conquer and kill the rat. My superior strength would 
enable me to squeeze him to death between my hands, 


REFLECTIONS ON RATS. 


219 


but not without getting a good many severe bites, and 
the one I had got already hindered me from having any 
relish for another encounter of the kind. 

How, then, was I to manage without a trap ? That 
was the thought that occupied me as I lay sleepless and 
in dread of the rat returning. 

But I cogitated to no purpose. It was well-nigh 
morning, when, worn with watching and planning, I 
fell off into the half-dozing half-dreaming state, — of 
which I have already spoken, — and still no feasible 
plan had offered itself for entrapping the “ venpin ** 
that was causing me so much annoyance and Alarm. 


CHAPTER XXXVm. 


OH ! FOR A STEEL TRAP I 

After several hours spent in dozing and dreaming 
by “ lits and starts,” I was again fairly awake, and could 
sleep no more for thinking of the great rat. Indeed, 
the pain I suffered was of itself sufficient to keep me 
awake ; for not only my thumb, but the whole hand 
was swollen, and ached acutely. I had no remedy but 
to bear it patiently ; and knowing that the inflammation 
would soon subside and relieve me, I made up my mind 
to endure it with fortitude. Greater evils absorb the 
less ; and it was so in my case. , My dread of the rat 
paying me another visit was a far greater trouble to me 
than the pain of my wound, and as my attention was 
wholly taken up with the former, I almost forgot that 
my thumb was aching. 

As soon as I was well awake, my thoughts returned 
to the subject of trapping my tormentor. I was quite 
sure he would return to trouble me. for I already had 
some indications of his presence. The weather still 
continued calm, and I could hear any occasional sounds 
very distinctly. I heard what resembled the pattering 
of little feet, as of the rat running over the Jid of an 
empty box j and once or twice I clearly distinguished 


OH I FOR A STEEL TRAP ! 222 

the short, shrill, cricket-like “ chirp ” that rats are wont 
to utter. I can think of no more disagreeable sound 
than the voice of a rat, and at that time it sounded 
doubly disagreeable. You may smile at my simple 
fears, but I could not help them. I could not help a 
presentiment that somehow or other my life was in 
danger from the presence of this rat, and the presenti- 
ment was not a vain or idle one, as you shall afterwards 
learn. 

The fear that I had, then, was that the rat would 
attack me in my sleep. So long as I might be awake, 
I was not much afraid that it could do me any very 
great injury. It might bite me, as it had done already, 
but that signified little. I should be able to destroy i< 
somehow. But supposing I should fall into a deep 
sleep, and the spiteful creature should then seize me by 
the throat ? Some such idea as this it was that kepi 
me in misery. I could not always keep aw’ake and on 
the qui vive. The longer I did so, the more deeply 
would I slumber afterwards, and then would be the 
time of danger. I could not go to sleep again with 
any feeling of security until that rat was destroyed ; 
and therefore its destruction was the end I now aimed 
at. 

I remained cogitating as to how I should encompass 
it ; but for the life of me I could think of no other way 
than to gripe the creature in my hands, and squeeze it 
to death. If I could have made sure of getting a proper 
hold of it, — that is, with my fingers round its .throat, 
80 that it could not turn its teeth upon me, — then the 
thing would be easy enough. But therein lay the diffi- 
culty. I should have to seize it in the dark, — at ram 


222 


THE BOY TAR. 


dom, — and likely enough it would prove as quick fxt 
'myself in getting the advantage of the hold. More 
over, my crippled thumb was in such a condition, th.at 
in that hand, — my right one, too, — I was not sure 1 
could even hold .the rat, much less crush the life out cf 
it. 

I bethought me of some means of protecting my fin- 
gers from its teeth. If I had only been possessed of a 
pair of strong gloves ; but then I was not, and it was no 
ase thinking of them. 

Yes, — it was of use; it proved so; for thinking of 
the gloves suggested the idea of a substitute ; and this 
substitute was within my reach, — buskins. By in- 
serting my hands into these, and covering them up 
to the wrists, I should gain a protection against the 
sharp teeth of the rat, and could I only get the animal 
under the soles, I would surely have strength enough to 
squeeze the breath out of it. A capital idea, and I at 
once proceeded to carry it into execution. 

Placing the buskins in readiness, I crouched near the 
crevice where the rat should enter. All the others, as 
already stated, I had carefully plugged up, and I now 
determined, if the rat came in, to stuff my jacket into 
the aperture before it could retreat, and thus have it at 
my mercy. I should then speedily put on my glove.^ 
and pound away till I had finished the business. 

It seemed as if the rat had either determined to brave 
the encounter, or that fortune was against it. 

I had scarcely set my house in order to receive my 
visitor, when the pattering of feet upon the broadcloth, 
and a little squeak which I heard, told me that the rat 
had passed through the crevice, and was actually inside 




OH : FOR A STEEL TRAP I 


223 


the inclosure. I plainly heard it rushing about, as I 
pushed the jacket into the aperture ; and once or twice 
I felt it coursing across my legs ; but .1 took no heed of 
its movements until I had made all secure against its 
retreat. Then I planted my hands firmly in the bus 
kins, and commenced searching for the enemy. 

As I was intimately acquainted with the shape of my 
Kttle chamber, and knew to the breadth of a hair where 
every corner lay, I was not long in “ feeling ” it up. 
My mode of proceeding was to raise the buskins, and 
plant them down again, each time striking upon new 
ground, I believed that if I could only get one of 
them upon a portion of the rat’s body, I could hold it 
until I might secure a safer hold with both, and then it 
would only remain to press downward with all my 
might. This was my programme, but though well 
enough designed, I was unable to carry it through. 

The affair ended in a very diflferent way. I suc- 
ceeded in planting one of the buskins upon the animal, 
but from the want of a firm floor underneath, I was not 
able to hold it, and the soft cloth yielding enabled it to 
get away. It escaped from my hold with a loud screech, 
and the next place I felt it in was running up the leg of 
my trousers, and inside ! 

A feeling of horror ran through my veins ; but I was 
now warmed to the encounter ; and, throwing aside the 
buskins, — which were no longer of service, — I grasped 
the body of the rat, just as it had reached the height of 
my knee. I was able to hold it there, although it strug- 
gled with a strength that quite astonished me, and its 
loud squealing was terrible to hear. 

I still held on, pressing the body with all my might, 


224 


THE BOY TAR. 


and quite insensible to the pain in my thumb. The 
cloth of my trousers protected my fingers from being 
bitten, but I did not come off unscathed, for the spiteful 
creature buried its teeth in my flesh, and kept them 
there as long as it was able to move. It was only after 
I had got my thumb round its throat, and fairly choked 
it to deaths that the teeth relaxed their grasp, and I per- 
ceived that I had succeeded in putting a period to its 
existence. 

Having released the body from my hold, I shook it 
out of my trousers quite lifeless and limp; and then, 
removing my jacket from the aperture, I flung the dead 
rat out in the direction whence it had come. 

I felt greatly relieved ; and, confident that I should 
no longer be troubled by Monsieur Rat, I betook my- 
self to sleep, determined to make up for what I liad lost 
during the night. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 


A SWARM OF INTRUDERS. 

M Y feeling of security proved to be a false one. I 
could not have been asleep more than a quarter of an 
hour, when I was suddenly awakened by something 
running over my breast. Was it another rat ? If not, 
it certainly was some creature that behaved exactly like 
one. 

I lay for some, moments without stirring, and listened 
attentively ; but I could hear nothing. Had I only 
dreamt that something ran over me ? Not so ; for just 
then I thought I could hear the pattering of little feet 
over the loose cloth. Right ; I did hear the sound, and 
the moment after felt the same feet upon my thigh. 

Starting upward, and bringing my hand down upon 
the spot, I was again horrified by feeling a large rat, 
that, as soon as I touched it, sprang away, and I could 
hear it rattling off through the crevice between the 
casks. 

Surely it could not be the same I had just dispatched ? 
No, — cats do come to life again after being supposed 
to be dead (sometimes after being buried ■!) but I never 
heard of rats possessing this extraordinary power of 
ritality. I felt satisfied that I had quite killed the rat, 
10 * 


— in fact, the handling I gave it might have taken nine 
lives, if it had had that number to spare. It was dead 
fts a nail when I flung it out. It could not be that 
one. 

And yet, absurd as it may seem, I fancied, — half 
asleep as I was, — that it was the same rat returning to 
avenge itself. This fancy, however, forsook me as soon 
as I was fairly awake, and I knew it could not be the 
i^ame. Most likely it was its mats, or partner, and a 
fit partner it was, for I noticed as I passed my fingers 
over it, that this second one was also a rat of very large 
size. 

No doubt, thought I, this is the female of the one I 
have killed coming in search of her mate. But she had 
entered by the same crevice, — she must have passed 
where the dead one lay, and must know what had oc- 
curred ? Was she going to avenge his death ^ 

Sleep was again banislied from my eyes. How 
could I sleep, with such a hideous animal prowling 
about, and perhaps with the fixed intention to attack 
^me ? 

Wearied a& I had now grown with watching, I "could 
not go to rest until I should rid myself of this second 
intruder. 

I was under the belief that this one would soon re- 
turn again. I had not caught hold of it, but merely 
touched it wi Ji my fingers, and as I had offered no par- 
ticular violence to it, likely enough it would soon venture 
back. ^ 

Under this conviction I 'placed myself as before,— 
close to the crevice, jacket in hatid, — and with my eal 
set close to the aperture, I listened attentively 


A SWARM OF INTRUDERS. 


227 


li\ A few minutes I distinctly heard the chirrup of a 
rat outside, and almost continually the same scratching 
and pattering I had noticed before. 

I think there was some Joose board or hollow box by 
which the sound was produced, — for it was very loud 
to be caused by so small an animal. These noises con- 
tinued, and I fancied that I also heard the rat passing 
into my chamber, but still the pattering and scratching 
were kept up outside, and therefore the animal could not 
be in. 

Once more I was sure I heard it passing me, but at 
the same time the chirrup fell on my ear, and that cer- 
tainly came from without. Again and again I fancied I 
was not the only tenant of the chamber, but I still re- 
strained myself from closing up the crevice, thinking I 
might be mistaken. 

At length, however, a loud squeal was uttered to the 
right of my position, certainly within the inclosure ; and, 
waiting no longer, I stuffed the jacket into the aperture, 
and made all tight and sure. 

I now turned to feel for the rat, — taking the precau- 
tion, as before, to insert my hands into the buskins. J 
had taken still another precaution, and this was to tie 
the legs of my trousers tight around my ankles, lest this 
other rat should act as its predecessor had done. Thus 
prepared, I proceeded to grope around. 

I had no liking for the encounter, but I was deter- 
mined to rid myself of the annoyance which I had been 
suffering, and get some sleep, — without being again 
disturbed, — and I could think of no other way than to 
till the rat as I had done its companion. 

So to work I again went. Horror of horrors ! fancy 


228 


THE BOY TAK. 


the terrible fears than ran through me, when, instead of 
one rat, I discovered that a whole swarm of these hide- 
ous brutes was inclosed in my apartment ! Not one, 
but probably half a score of them ! The place appeared 
crowded with them, and I could scarce put down the 
buskins without touching one. I felt them running all 
around me^ over my legs, the backs of my hands, — 
everywhere, — at the same time uttering their fierce 
cries as if they were menacing me ! 

It is but truth to say, I was frightened nearly out of 
my senses. I thought no longer about killing them. 
For some moments I scarcely knew what I was doing ; 
but I remember that I had the presence of mind to lay 
hold of my jacket, and pull it out of the aperture. 
Then swinging it around, I continued to beat the floor 
in every direction, shouting all the while at the top of 
my voice. . 

My shouts and the violence of my actions appeared 
to produce the desired effect, — for I heard the rats re- 
treating through the crevice ; and after a time, on ven- 
turing to reconnoitre the floor with my naked hands, I 
found, to my delight, they had taken their depailure, 
one and all of them. 


CHAPTER XL. 


THE NORWAY RAT. 

If I was uncomfortable before with the presence of 
a single rat, how much more uneasy was I with th€ 
knowledge that a whole gang of these disgusting ani- 
mals was in my neighborhood ! There must be a still 
greater number than those I had just routed, — for be- 
fore closing up the aperture with my jacket, I had stiir 
heard others squeaking and scraping on the boards out- 
side. Like enough there were scores of them, — for I 
had heard that in many ships such vermin abound, 
finding a secure hiding-place in the numerous crevices 
among the timbers of the hold. I had heard, moreovei, 
that these ship-rats are the fiercest of their kind, and 
when driven to extremes by hunger, — which is not 
unfrequently the case, — will not hesitate to attack liv- 
ing creatures, and show but little fear of either cat or 
dog. They often commit extensive damage upon arti- 
cles of the cargo, and are thus a great nuisance in a 
ship, especially when she has not been properly over- 
liauled and cleaned out before loading for a voyage. 
These ship-rats are the sort known as “ Norway rats,” 
on account of a belief that they were first brought to 
England in Norwegian ships ; but whether they origi- 
nated in Norway or elsewliere, it matters little, as thej 


230 


THE BOY TAR. 


are now universally distributed over the whole globe^ 
and I believe there is no part of the earth, where ships 
have touched', that Norway rats are not found in abun- 
dance. If Norway was in reality the country of their 
origin, then it follows that all climes are alike to them, 
— since they are especially abundant and thriving in 
the hot tropical climates of America. Seaport towns 
in the West Indies and the continents of both North 
and South America are infested with them ; and so 
great a nuisance are they deemed in some of these 
places, that a “ rat-bounty ” is usually offered by the 
municipal authorities for their destruction. Notwith- 
standing this premium for killing them, they still exist 
in countless numbers, and the wooden wharves of these 
American seaports appear to be their true harbors of 
refuge / 

The Norway rats are not individually large rats. 
Occasionally very large ones are found among them, 
but these are exceptional cases. They are in general 
less distinguished for size, than for a fierce and spiteful 
disposition, combined with a great fecundity, which of 
course renders them exceedingly numerous and trouble- 
some. It has been observed that wherever they make 
their appearance, in a few years the rats of all other 
species disappear; and it is therefore conjectured that 
the Norway rats destroy the other kinds ! Weasels are 
no match for them, — for what they lack in individual 
strength is amply compensated for by their numbers, — 
and in these hot countries they outnumber thfeir ene- 
mies in the proportion of hundreds to one. Even cats 
are afraid of them ; and in many parts of the world 
the cats will shy away from an encounter with Norway 


> 


THE NORWAY RAT. 


231 


rats, choosing for their prey some victim of a milder 
disposition. Even large dogs, unless specially set on, 
«vill prefer to pass and give them a wide berth. 

One fact about the Norway rat is peculiar : It ap- 
pears to know when it possesses the advantage. Whsre 
they are but few and in danger of being destroyed, 
they are timid enough ; but in those countries where 
they are allowed to increase, they become emboldened 
by impunity, and are much less awed by the presence 
of man. In the seaports of some tropical countries 
they will scarce take the precaution to hide themselves ; 
and on moonlight nighis, when they come out in great 
numbers, they hardly deign to turn aside out of the way 
ol the passenger. They will just creep a little to one 
side, and then close up behind the heels of any one who 
may be passing along. Such creatures are the Norway 
rats. 

I was not acquainted with all these facts at the time 
of my adventure with the rats i;i the ship Inca ; but I 
knew enough, even then, from sailors’ yarns I had 
heard, to make me very uncomfortable at the presence 
of so many of these ugly animals ; and, after I had 
succeeded in driving them out of my little chamber, I 
was far from being easy in my mind. I felt almost cer- 
tain tlisy would return again, and perhaps in greater force 
than ever. Perhaps they would become hungered dur- 
ing the voyage, and consequently bolder and fiercer, — 
bold enough to attack me. Even then, I thought that 
they had appeared by no means afraid of me. Though 
with my shouts and violent efforts I had forced them 
out, I could still hear them near at hand, scampering 
abcut and squeaking to one another. What if '’hey 


232 


THE BOY TAR. 


wer already half famished and meditating an attack 
upon me ! From facts that I had heard of, the thing 
was not very improbable ; and I need hardly say that the 
very suspicion of such a probability made a most pain- 
ful impression upon me. The thought of being killed 
and devoured by these horrid creatures, caused within 
me a feeling of dread far greater than I had felt when 
I was anticipating death by being drowned. I should 
have preferred drowning to a death like that ; and when 
for a moment I dwelt upon the probability of such a 
fate, the blood ran coldly through my veins, and the hair 
seemed to stiffen upon my scalp. 

For some minutes I sat — or rather knelt — (for I 
was upon my knees while striking around me with the 
jacket) not knowing what course to follow. I still be- 
lieved that the rats would not have the boldness to 
approach me, so long as I remained awake and could 
defend myself. But how would it be were I to go to 
sleep again ? Then, indeed, they might be encouraged 
to attack me, and once they had got their teeth into my 
flesh, they might resemble the tiger, who, having tasted 
blood, is not satisfied till he has destroyed his victim. 

I dared not go to sleep. 

And yet I could not always keep awake. Sleep would 
in time overpower me, and I should have to yield to it 
in the end. The longer I struggled against it, the^ 
deeper the sleep that would follow ; and perhaps I 
might fall into some profound slumber from which I 
might never awake, — some terrible “ nightmare ” that 
would bind me beyond the power off moving, and thus 
render me an easy, prey to the voracious monsters that 
surrounded me ! 


THE NORWAY RAT. 


233 


For a short while I suffered these painful apprehen- 
sions, but soon an idea came into my mind that gave me 
relief ; and that was, to replace my jacket in the crevice 
through which the rats had entered, and thus shut them 
out altogether. 

It was certainly a very simple way of getting over 
ths difficulty ; and, no doubt, it would have occurred to 
me sooner, — that is, when the first and second rats 
had been troubling me, — but then I thought there were 
but the two, and I might settle with them in a different 
w’ay. Now, however, the case was different. To de- 
stroy all the rats that were in the hold of that ship 
would be a serious undertaking, — if not an impossi 
bility, — and I no longer thought of such a thing. The 
best plan, therefore, would be that which I had now hit 
upon : to stop up the main aperture, — and also every 
other through which a rat could possibly squeeze his 
body, — and thus be at once secured against either their 
intrusion or their attacks. 

Without further delay, I “ plugged ” up the crevice 
with my jacket ; and, wondering that I had not thought 
of this simple plan before, I laid me down, — this time 
with a full confidence that I might sleep undisturbed, as 
lorg a3 I should feel the necessity or inclination. 


CHAPTER XLL 


DREAM AND REALITY. 

8o wearied had I become with fears and long waking, 
that my cheek had scarce touched my pillow, before I 
was off into the land of dreams. And not the land of 
dreams either, for it was the sea of which I dreamt ; 
and, just as before, that I was at its. bottom, and sur- 
rounded by horrid crab-like monsters who threatened to 
eat me up. 

Now and then, however, these crab-like creatures 
assumed the form of rats ; and then my dream more 
resembled reality. I dreamt that they were in vast 
numbers around me, and menaced me from every side ; 
that I had only my jacket to keep them off, and that I 
was sweeping it from side to side for that purpose. I 
thought they grew bolder and bolder as they saw 
how little damage I was able to do them with such a 
weapon ; and that a very large rat, — much bigger than 
any of the others, — was encouraging them on to the 
attack. This was not a real rat, but the ghost of one, 
— of that one I had killed ! He was leading the swarm 
of my assailants, and counselling them to avenge his 
murder ! Such was the fancy of my dream. 

I thought that, for a long time, I was successful in 


DREAM AND REALITY. 


235 


Keeping them at bay ; but my strength was fast failing 
me, and unless succor arrived, I would be overpowered. 
I looked around and called loudly for help, but no one 
appeared to be near me. 

My assailants at length perceived that my strength 
was gone ; and, — at a signal given by their ghost 
leader, — made a simultaneous rush upon me. They 
came from the front, from behind, from both sides, and 
although I struck around me in a last despairing effort, 
it was to no purpose. Dozens of them I had flung 
backward, tumbling upon their backs and over one 
another, but their places were instantly filled up again 
by others that came from behind. 

I could struggle no longer. Resistance was idle. I 
felt them crawling up my legs, my thighs, my back. 
They clung to me all over, — their bodies covering 
mine like a swarm of bees upon a branch ; and before 
they had time to inflict a wound upon my flesh, their 
very weight caused me to stagger, and fall heavily to 
the earth ! 

The fall appeared to save me, — for as soon as I 
touched ground the rats let go their hold and ran scam- 
pering off, — as if frightened at the effect they had 
produced 1 

I was pleasantly surprised at this denouement^ and for 
some moments was unable to explain it ; but ray senses 
soon became clearer ; and I was rejoiced to find that the 
horror I had been experiencing was only the illusion of 
a dream ; and the fall which I had suffered, was the 
creaking up of the vision that had awakened me ! 

In the next instant, however, I changed my mind ; 
and my new-sprung joy departed as suddenly as it had 


236 


THE BOY TAR. 


arisen. It was not all a dream. Rats had been upon 
me, and rats were at that moment in my chamber! 1 
heard them scampering about. I heard their ugly 
screeches ; and before I could raise myself, one of them 
ran over my face I 

^ This was a new source of terror. How had they got 
in ? The very mystery of their being inside was of 
itself enough to give me a shock. How had they got 
there? Had they pushed out the jacket? Mechani- 
cally, I felt for it. No. It was there in its place, just 
as I had left it ! I drew it out for the purpose of strik- 
ing around me, to drive the vermin off. I struck with it 
and shouted as I had done before, and succeeded in clear- 
ing them off ; but I was now in greater terror than ever, 
for I could not explain how they were able thus to reach 
me, notwithstanding all my precautions. 

For a time, I was sorely perplexed, but I found tho 
explanation at length. It was not through the crevice, 
I had stopped with the jacket, they had sought entrance ; 
out by another aperture, which I had calked with a 
piece of cloth. The cloth was too small, — it had been 
loose, and the rats had actually torn it out with their 
teeth ! 

This accounted for their gaining an entrance ; but, 
at the same time, it by no means removed my alarm. 
On the contrary, it furnished me cause for increased 
anxiety. Why were those creatures thus pertinacious 
— returning again and again ? What wanted they in 
my hiding-place, more than in any other part of the 
ship ? What could they want, but to kill and eat me ? 

Verily, I could think of no other reason why I was 
thus assailed. 


DREAM AND REALITY. 


237 


The fear oi such a consequence, now aroused all my 
\ tergies. I had not been asleep more than an hour, — 
a I knew by my watch ; but I could not go to sleep 
a^:ain, until I had fully secured myself; and for this 
p\ rpose, I set about putting my fortress in a more prop- 
er state of defence. I removed the former stuffings 
frt -a the apertures, one by one, and replaced them more 
fiiidy. I even went through the labor of taking al? 
the biscuits out of the box, and drawing forth two or 
thrt •} fresh pieces of cloth to help me in my “ calking.” 
I th m restored the biscuits to their places, and closed 
up every aperture that existed. I had the greatest 
difficulty upon that side where the box stood, for around 
it there were many ill-shaped crevices ; but I got over 
the difficulty, by means of a large web of cloth, which, 
when placed upon its end, exactly fitted the open space, 
— through which I had squeezed my own carcass on 
that occasion, when I was so unfortunate as to set my 
foot aboard the ship. On this side, the piece of cloth 
left no more calking to be done, — as it fitted just 
tight enough to prevent any living creature from pass- 
ing beside it. The only disadvantage it offered was, 
that it hindered me from getting conveniently at my 
store of biscuits, — for it covered the opening in the 
box, — but I thought of this before pushing it into its 
place ; and carried a supply of the biscuits inside, — 
enough to last me for a week or two. When these 
should be eaten, I could remove the web ; and, before 
any rats could come in to trouble me, provide myself 
for another week. 

It occupied me full two hours, in completing all these 
arrangements, — for I worked with great care to make 


238 


THE BOY TAR. 


mj fortress walls secure. It was no j-lay I was per- 
forming. It was a matter that possessed the serious 
interest of my life’s safety. 

When I had made all tight to my perfect satisfaction^ 
I lay down to sleep again, — this time quite certain 
that 1 should get something more than a mere ^cat- 
nap.’* 


CHAPTER XLIL 


A SOUND SLEEP AT LAST. 

I w>8 not disappointed. I slept foi a penod ol 
twelve hours* duration, — not without many fearful 
dreams, — terrible encounters with crabs and rats. So 
far as the comfort of the thing was concerned, I might 
almost as well have been awake, and actually engaged 
in such conflicts. My sleep was far from refreshing, 
notwithstanding its long continuance ; but it was pleas- 
ant on awaking to find that my unwelcome visitors had 
not been back again, and that no breach had been made 
in my defences. I groped all around, and found that 
everything was just as I had left it. 

For several days, I felt comparatively at my ease. I 
had no longer any apprehension of danger from the 
rats, though I knew they were still close to me. When 
the weather was calm, (and it continued so for a long 
while), I could hear the animals outside, busy at what- 
ever they had to do, rattling about among the packages 
of merchandise, and occasionally uttering spiteful shrieks, 
as if they were engaged in combats with each other 
But their voices no longer terrified me, as I was pretty 
sure they could not get nearer me. Whenever, for any 
purpose, I removed one >f the cloth pi(!ces with which 


240 


THE BOY TAR 


my little cabin was “ chinked,” I took good care to re* 
turn it to its place again, before any of the animals 
could know that the aperture was open. 

I experienced a good deal of discomfort from being 
thus shut up. The weather was exceedingly warm ; 
and as not a breath of air could reach me, or circulate 
through the apartment, it felt at times as hot as the in- 
side of a baker’s oven. Yery likely we were sailing 
under the line, or, at all events, in some part of the 
tropical latitudes ; and this would account for the calm- 
ness of the atmosphere, — since, in these latitudes, 
stormy weather is much more rare than in either of the 
so-called temperate zones. Once, indeed, during this 
time, we experienced a very sharp gale, which lasted 
for a day and night. It was succeeded as usual by a 
heavy swell, — during which the ship tumbled about, as 
if she would turn bottom upwards. 

I was not sea-sick on this occasion ; but, as I had 
nothing to hold on by, I was sadly rolled about in my 
little cabin, now pitching head foremost against the butt, 
now falling backward upon the side of the ship, till 
every bone in my body was as sore as if I had been 
cudgelled ! The rocking of the vessel, too, occasion- 
ally caused the boxes and barrels to move a little ; and 
this had the effect of loosening the cloth calking, and 
causing it to drop out. Still apprehensive of an inroad 
from the rats, I was kept busy, all the time the gale 
lasted, in plugging the crevices afresh. 

Upon the whole, I think that this employment was 
pleasanter than doing nothing. It rather helped me to 
pass the time ; and the two days during which the gale 
and swell kept me so occupied, seemed shorter than any 


A SOUND SLEEP AT LAST. 241 

•ther two far the bitterest hours, were tiiose iij 

which I could find nothing at all to do, — absolutely 
nothing to engage ray thoughts. Then I would remain 
for long hours together, — sometimes without making a 
motion, or changing the attitude in which I lay, — some- 
times without even having a thought; and thus dark, 
and lonely, and longing, I feared that my reason would 
forsake me, and that I should go mad ! 

In this way, two more weeks had passed over, as I 
knew by the notches- on my stick. Otherwise they 
might have been months, — ay, years, — so long did 
the time appear. With the exception of the hours in 
which we experienced the gale, all the rest was complete 
monotony ; and not one fact or occurrence transpired to 
make an impression on my memory. 

During all this time, I had strictly adhered to my 
regulation regarding food and drink. Notwithstanding 
that I often hungered, and could have eaten up a week’s 
allowance at a single meal, I had not exceeded the pre- 
scribed ration. Many a time it cost me an effort to 
deny myself ; and often the half biscuit, which was to 
serve for another meal, was put aside with most tardy 
reluctance, and seemed to cling to my fingers, as I 
placed it on the little shelf. But I congratulated my- 
self that up to this time, — with the exception of that 
day upon which I had eaten the four biscuits at a meal, 
— I had been able to keep my resolve, and contend 
bravely against the craving appetite of hunger. 

Thirsty I never was. I had no uneasiness on this 
score. My ration of water was quite enough for me, and 
more than enough. On most days I used far short of 
the allowance, and could drink as much as 1 wanted 
11 


242 


THE BOY TAR. 


Tlie sii;»ply of biscuits I had brought inside, vyheu 
shutting myself up against the rats, was at length 
exhausted. I was glad of this. Ft proved that time 
was passing away, — two weeks must have elapsed, as I 
had counted the biscuits at the commencement of this 
period, and found that they were just the allowance foi 
so long. The time, then, had come round for me to g6 
oack to my larder, and procure a fresh supply. 

As I proceeded to do so, a singular apprehension 
arose in my mind. It came suddenly, as if an arrow 
had been shot into my heart. It was the presentiment 
of a great misfortune ; or not exactly a presentiment, 
but a fear caused by something I had noticed only the 
minute before. I had heard a noise outside, which as 
usual I attributed to my neighbors the rats. Often, in- 
deed almost continually, similar noises had proceeded 
from without, but none that impressed me like this, for 
it appeared to reach me from a new direction, — the di- 
rection of the biscuit-box. 

My fingers trembled as I removed the web ; and stfil 
more as I thrust my hands into the box. Merciful 
heavens ! the box was empty ! 

No, not empty. As I plunged my hand deeper, it 
rested upon something soft and smooth, — a rat. The 
animal sprang suddenly aside as it felt my touch, and 
I drew back my hand with a like rapid movement. 
Mechanically I felt in another place, — only to touch 
another rat, and then another, and another ! The box 
appeared half full of them, side by side, as close as 
they could sit. They leaped about and scattered oflf 
in different directions, — some even jumping against 
my breast, as they shot out by the aperture, — and 


A SOUND SLEEP AT LAST. 


243 


others striking the sides of the box, and uttering loud 
cries. 

I succeeded in routing them. But, alas ! when they 
were gone, and I proceeded to examine my store, I 
found, to my chagrin, that nearly the whole of my bis- 
cuits were gone too ! All of them that were left were 
broken to pieces, and nothing remained in the box, 
but a pile of crumbs covering the bottom, upon which 
the rats had been feeding at the moment I surprisea 
them. 

This was an evil of the grandest magnitude ; and I 
was so overwhelmed upon the discovery of it, that for a 
time I scarce knew what I was doing. 

The consequences were plain enough. My provis- 
ions were gone, — starvation stared me in the face. 
Nay, starvation was no longer a matter of doubt. It 
was now certain. The mumbled crumbs which the 
hideous robbers had left, (and which they would also 
have eaten up in another hour, had I not surprised 
them,) would not keep the life in me for a week; 
and what then ? ay, what then ! Starvation, — death 
by hunger ! 

There was no alternative. So reasoned I, and how 
could it be otherwise ? 

For a while, I felt reckless and despairing, — almost 
reckless enough to refrain from taking any steps to hin- _ 
der the rats from returning to the box. It was my 
belief, that'll must in the end succumb to this misfor- 
tune, — must starve, — and it was no use procrastinating 
my fate. I might as well die at once, as at the end of 
the week. To live for days, knowing that death was 
certain, would be a terrible state of endurance, — worse 


244 


THE BOY TAR. 


than death itsel^ ; and here again returned to me those 
dark suicidal thoughts, that had once before passed 
through my mind. 

They troubled me only for a moment. The remem • 
brance that I had had them before, and that then I had 
been delivered from them, — as it were miraculously, 
— that although I could not see how it was to be found, 
there might still be a way of escape, — the hand of 
Providence, as it had done already, might still be held 
over me, and point out that way, — - these reflections and 
remembrances came back into my mind, and once more 
a ray of hope shone upon my future. True, there was 
no definite hope, but just enough to arouse me to fresh 
energy, and save me from absolute despair. The pres- 
ence of the rats, too, had an effect in quickening my 
actions. I perceived that they were still close at hand, 
threatening to reenter the box and finish their work of 
demolition. In truth, I could now only keep them out 
by making the most violent demonstrations. 

I found that the place where they had got in was not 
the aperture which I myself used. That was closed up 
with the web, and they could not pass through there. 
They had entered on the opposite side, from the box of 
cloth, — into which they had been able to make their 
way, since I had myself removed one of the boards out 
of its side. It had all been done recently ; or, more 
likely, to cut through the thick plank had employed 
them for some time, and so delayed the execution of 
their design. But for this, they might have reached 
the inside sooner, and then not a morsel would have 
been left. No doubt it was for the purpose of getting 
at the biscuits that they had swarmed once or twic# 


A SOUND SLEEP AT LAST. 


245 


into my chamber, — for that gave them free access tc 
the box. 

I now deeply regretted my negligence in not securing 
my store in a safe way. I had already thought of doing 
BO, but I never imagined these creatures could make an 
entry from behind, and 1 knew that the web of cloth 
completely shut them out on the inside. 

Alas ! it was now too late ; regrets were idle ; and, 
following out that instinct which prompts us to preserve 
life as long as we can, I transferred the fragments from 
the box to my little shelf inside ; and then, making all 
tight as before, I lay down to reflect upon my situation, 
rendered gloomier than ever by this unexpected mi»- 
fortune. 


CHAPTER XLin. 


4EARCH AFTER ANOTHER BISCUIT-BOX. 

J t many hours I remained brooding over the al- 
tered Ptate of my affairs, with no thought arising to 
cheer roe. I felt so hopeless that I did not even take 
stock of the biscuits, or rather the crumbs that were left. 
I guessed roughly by the size of the little heap that it 
might sustain life, — keeping up the very small ration I 
had been hitherto using, — for about ten days, — not 
more. Ten days, then, — or at most a fortnight, — had 
I to live, with the prospect of certain death at the end 
of that time, — and a death that experience told me 
must be slow and painful. I had already suffered the 
extreme of hunger, — almost to death, — and I dreaded" 
to try it again ; but there appeared no hope of escaping 
from such a doom, — at least, none appeared at the 
moment. 

The shock that followed the discovery of my loss, 
rendered me for a long time unable to think clearly. 
My mind was dejected and pusillanimous, — my brain, 
as it were, paralyzed, — so that whenever I took to 
thinking, my thoughts only wandered, or centred on Ihf 
terrible doom that awaited me. 

In time a reaction arrived, and I was better able 


SEARCH AFTER ANOTHER BISCUIT-BOX. 247 

reflect on the circumstances in which I was now placed 
Gradually hope dawned again, though it was only of an 
indistinct and very indefinite character, — literally but a 
“ ray.” The thought that occurred to me was simply 
this : that as I had found one box of biscuits, why 
might there not be a second? If not immediately be- 
side the first, it might be near. As stated already, I 
believed that in the stowage of a ship, goods of the same 
kind are not always placed together, but miscellane- 
ously, — just as the different packages may fit to the 
shape of the hold and to each other. I had proof that 
this was the usual arrangement, since around me, and in 
juxtaposition, were articles of very different kinds, — 
biscuits, broadcloth, brandy, and the butt of water. Al- 
though there was no second box of biscuits immedi- 
ately adjoining the one already emptied, there might be 
another not far off, — perhaps just on the other side of 
the cloth-box, or in some place where I might be able 
to get at it. 

This, then, was the thought that inspired me with 
new hope. 

As soon as I had conceived it, all my energies re- 
turned, and I set about reflecting on what course I 
should take to ascertain whether there was another bis- 
cuit-box that it was possible for me to reach. 

The plan of reaching it was already shaped out in 
my mind. In fact, there was but one way, — with my 
knife. No other means were within my reach, and 
therefore I thought of none. To cut a way with my 
knife through such packages — boxes, bales, or barrels 
' — as might lie between my chamber and the desired 
biscuits, was the idea that had entered my mind, and it 


246 


THE BOY TAR. 


seemed more feasible and practicable the longei I ro 
fleeted upon it. Deeds that would appear difficLlt, if 
not impossible, under ordinary circumstances, present a 
differenl aspect to one whose life is in danger, and who 
knows it may be saved by accomplishing them. The 
direst hardships, and severest privations, become light 
trials when life and death are on the issue. 

It was from this point of view that I was compelled 
to contemplate the feat I now intended to perform ; and 
I thought but lightly of the time and trouble, so long as 
there was a prospect of their saving me from horrid 
death by starvation. 

I resolved, therefore, to hew a way with ray knife 
among the packages of merchandise, in hopes of conTi- 
ing to one that contained food. If successful, then I 
should live, — if not, I must die. Another thought 
had some effect in encouraging me to the attempt. It 
would be better for me to pass my time still hoping, 
than to yield to despair and remain idle. To live foi 
two weeks in the certain anticipation- of death, would 
have been a thousand times more painful than death 
itself. 

Far better to struggle on, nourishing hope with the 
exertions I should be making for my safety. The very 
labor itself would help me to pass the time, and hinder 
me from brooding too keenly on my doubtful fate. 

Thus ran my reflections, as I became once more 
roused to the energy that for a while had forsaken me. 

I was on my knees, knife in hand, resolved and ready. 
That precious piece of steel, how prized at the moment 1 
I would not have exchanged it for the full of the ship 
:>f red gold ! 


SEARCH AFTER ANOTHER BISCUIT-BOX. 249 


1 have said that I was upon mj knees. I could nof 
lave stood erect, had I wished it. There was not room 
The ceiling of my cabin was too low. 

Was it my peculiar attitude that suggested the 
thought? Perhaps it had some influence. I cannot 
now remember ; but I weP remember that before pro- 
ceeding farther in my design, I offered up a prayer, — ^ 
humble and earnest, — to God, who had already, as I 
firmly believed, stretched forth his hand to succor me. 
I prayed for guidance, for strength, for success. I need 
not add that my prayer was heard, else I should not 
now have been living to record it. 

My intention was first to work through the cloth-box, 
and discover what was behind it. That which had con- 
tained the biscuits was now empty, and I could get 
through it without trouble. It will be remembered that 
I had already been inside the biscuit-box while search- 
~ ing for another, and also while procuring the pieces of 
cloth ; and so far my way was clear. But to get across 
the one in which the broadcloth was packed, it would be 
necessary to pull out several more pieces, to give me 
room to work on to the next. My knife, therefore, 
would not be needed at first starting ; and putting it 
aside, where I could easily lay my hands upon it again, 
I ducked my head and crawled into the empty box. Ib 
another minute I was pulling and tugging away at the 
stiff* rolls of broadcloth, — all my strength being ex- 
erted, and all my energies employed, in detaching them 
from tbur places. 


CHAPTER XLIV. 


THE CRUMBS SECURED. 

This was a work that cost me both timii and labors 
tmch more than you might imagine. No doubt the 
cloth had been packed with the idea of economizing 
space, and the pieces were wedged as tightly together 
as if done by a steam-press. Those opposite the open- 
mg I had made, came out easily enough ; but with the 
others I had more trouble. It took all my strength to 
detach many of them from their places. When a few 
were removed, the work became easier. There were 
several rolls larger than the rest. They were larger, 
because they were of coarser cloth. They were too 
big to pass through the apertures I had made, either the 
one in the cloth-case, or that in the side of the biscuit- 
box. I was puzzled how to deal with them. I could 
not enlarge the openings without a great deal of labor. 
On account of the situation of the two boxes, it was 
not possible to knock off another board. I should have 
to cut the hoh\ wider with my knife ; and this, for the 
same reason, would have been difficult. 

A better plan suggested itself, — apparently a better, 
but which in the end proved a mistake. I managed the 
matter by cutting off the fastenings of each piece, and 


THE CRUMBS SECURED. 


251 


laying ioLl of the end of the web, unrolled it. I then 
drew ^t the loose cloth until the web became small 
enough to pass through. In this way I succeeded in 
emptying the case, but the work kept me employed for 
several hfx' bs. 

I was delayed, moreover, by a more serious interrup- 
tion. On 1 eturning to my chamber, with the first piece 
of cloth which I had drawn out of the box, I found, to 
my consternation, that it was already occupied by other 
tenants, — score of them : the rats were in possession ! 

I dropped the piece of cloth ; and, dashing into their 
midst, succeeded in routing them ; but, as I had antici- 
pated from their presence, I found that another portion 
of my wretched store of provisions was eaten or carried 
off. Not a great deal, however, appeared to have been 
taken. Fortunately, I had been absent only for a short 
while. Had I been gone for but another twenty min- 
utes, the robbers would have quite cleared me out, and 
left me not a crumb to live upon. 

The consequence of this would have been fatal ; and 
once more deploring my negligence, I resolved to take 
better care for the future. I spread out a large piece 
of the cloth, and depositing the fragments upon it, 1 
wrapped them up into a sort of bag-like bundle, which 
I tied as firmly as I could with a strip of list torn from 
the cloth itself. This, I fancied, would keep all safe 
and placing it in a corner, I proceeded with my work. 

As I passed to and fro upon my hands and knees, — - 
now empty-handed, now dragging with me a piece of 
the cloth, — I might have been likened to an ant crawl 
ing upon its track, and laying in its stores for the winter 
and during many hours I was kept as busy as in ant 


252 


THE BOY TAR. 


might be. The weather still continued calm, but th« 
atmosphere appeared hotter than I had yet felt it, and 
the perspiration ran from- every pore of my skin. I 
was often obliged to use a loose piece of the broadcloth 
to wipe the drops from my forehead and out of my 
eyes ; and at times it appeared as' if the heat would 
suffocate me. But with such a motive as I bad for per- 
severance, I continued to toil on, without thought of 
resting for a moment. 

All the while I was conscious of the presence of the 
rats. They appeared to be everywhere around me, — 
in the crevices between the casks and boxes, which they 
used as so many ways and paths. They met me in my 
own particular gallery, crossing or running before me, 
and sometimes I felt them behind me coursing over my 
legs. Singular enough, I was less afraid of them than 
formerly. This partially arose from my observance of 
the fact, that it was the biscuit-box that had brought 
them in such numbers into my chamber, and not me. 
At first I was under the impression that they had come 
there to assail myself, but I now thought differently, and 
felt less apprehension of their attacking me. I no longer 
dreaded them while awake ; but for all that, I could not 
^ have gone to sleep — nor did I intend to do so again — 
without first securing myself against their attacks. 

Another reason there was why I feared them less. 
My situation had grown more desperate, and the neces- 
sity for action so apparent, that all lesser dangers had 
given way to the greater one that threatened me, — the 
danger of starvation. 

Having finished emptying the cloth-case of its con- 
leuts, I resolved to rest a bit, and refresh myself 


THE CRUMBS SECURED. 


253 


mtb a scanty ration of crumbs and a cup of ’wat''r 
During the whole time I was engaged in unpacking, 1 
had not left off, even to take a drink, and I was now 
thirsty enough to drink quarts. As I had no fear that 
my water supply would run short, I now opened the tap 
and drank to my satisfaction. I must have lowered the 
water-line very considerabl)', before I could drag my- 
self away from the butt. The precious fluid seemed 
sweeter than honey itself ; and after drinking, I felt 
as though it had reinvigorated me to the tips of my 
fingers. 

I now turned to my stock of food, but another cry of 
chagrin escaped me as I laid my hands upon the bundle. 
The rats again ! Yes, — I found to my astonishment, 
that these persevering robbers had been back again, had 
gnawed a hole through the cloth, and abstracted another 
portion from my now greatly reduced store ! A pound 
at least of the precious crumbs had been taken, and 
this must have been done within a few minutes’ time ; 
for, only a few minutes before, I had occasion to move 
^he bundle, and I had then observed that there was 
nothing amiss. 

The discovery of this new misfortune caused me 
fresh misery and vexation. I saw that if I left the bis- 
cuit-bag behind me, — even for the shortest space of 
time, — I might expect on my return to find every 
crumb gone out of it. 

Already I had lost nearly half of what I had taken 
from the box, and which I had calculated might keep 
me alive for a period of ten or twelve days. This cal- 
culation included everything, even to the dust, which J 
had carefully gathered up from the boards ; and now 


254 


THE BOY TAR. 


on reexamining what remained, I perceived that there 
was not enough to sustain me for a week ! 

This discovery added to the gloom of my situation ; 
but I did not suffer it to bring despair. I resolved to 
proceed with my design, as if no new misfortune had hap- 
pened, — for the further reduction of my stores rendered 
both energy and perseverance more necessary than ever. 

I could not think of any way of securing my crumbs, 
except by taking the bag along with me and keeping it 
by my side. I might have folded more cloth around 
them, but I was impressed with the belief that these 
vermin would have gnawed their way to my crumbs 
had I placed them in a box of iron. 

To make safe, therefore, I tied up the hole that 
had been cut in the cloth ; and, dragging the bundle 
after me, I took it into the cloth-case, determined to 
defend it against all comers. 

Having deposited it between my knees, I once more 
set to work with my knife to tunnel through the side of 
the adjacent box. 


CHAPTER XLV. 


ANOTHER BITE. 

Ra*' IE proceeding to use the knife, I had endeav 
♦red w burst one of the boards outward, — first by 
pressing" upon it with my hands. Finding I could not 
move it in this way, I lay down upon my back, and 
tried it with my heels. I even put on my old buskins 
in hopes of being able to kick it out ; but, after thump- 
ing at it for a considerable time, I saw it would not do. 
It was too securely nailed, and, as I found out after- 
wards, it was still more strongly secured with strips of 
iron hooping, which would have resisted a stronger effort 
than any I could make. My kicks and thumps, there- 
fore, were all given to no purpose ; and as soon as I 
became convinced of this, I went to work with my knife. 

I designed cutting across one of the boards near tho 
end, — and only at one end, as I could then force the 
piece out, no matter how securely it might be clasped al 
the other. 

The timber was not very hard, lieing only common 
spruce deal, and I could soon have made a cross-cut of 
the whole piece, — even with no better tool than my 
knifj, — if I had been in a proper attitude, with the 
bo A fairly before me. But instead of that, I was 


THE BCV TAU. 


2i)6 

obliged to operate in a constrained position, that was 
both disadvantageous and fatiguing. Moreover, my 
hand was still painful from the bite of the rat, — 'the 
scar not yet being closed up. The troubles I had been 
enduring, had kept my blood in a constant fever, and 
this, I suppose7 had prevented the healing of the wound. 

V Unfortunately, it was my right hand that had been 
bitten ; and, being right-handed, I could not manage 
the knife with my left. I tried it at times, to relieve 
the other, but could make little progress at left-hand 
work. 

For these reasons, then, I was several hours in cut- 
ting across a piece of nine-inch deal of only an inch in 
thickness ; but I got through at last, and then, placing 
myself once more on my back, and setting my heels to 
the plank j I had the satisfaction to feel it yielding. 

It did not move a great way, and I could perceive 
that there was something hindering it behind, — either 
another box or a barrel, — but this was exactly what 1 
had expected. Only two or three inches of empty space 
were between the two, and it required a good deal of 
kicking, and twisting backward and forward, and up- 
ward and downward, before I could detach the piece 
from its fastenings of iron. 

Before I had got it quite out of my way, I knew 
what was behind, for I had passed my fingers through 
to ascertain. It was another packing-case, and, alas ! 
too similar to the one I was crouching in. The same 
kind of timber, if my touch was true, — and this one 
of my senses had of late become wonderfully acute. 

I felt its outline, — as much of it as I could reach 
the same size it appeared to be, — the same rough, bn 


ANOTHER BITE. 


257 


planed plank, — just like that I had been cutting at, — 
and both, as I now perceived, iron hooped at the ends. 
Beyond doubt, it was another of the same.” 

I came to this conclusion without proceeding farther, 
and it was a conclusion that filled me with chagrin and 
disappointment. But although I felt too bitterly satis- 
fied that it was another cloth-box, I deemed it worth 
while to put the ^matter beyond any doubt. To effect 
this, I proceeded to take out one of the pieces of the 
second box, just as I had done with the other, — by 
making a clear cut across, — and then prizing it out, 
and drawing it towaixis me. It cost me even more 
labor than the first, for I could not get at it so well ; 
besides, I had to widen the aperture in the other, before 
I could reach the joining between two pieces. The 
widening w'as not so difficult, as the soft plank split off 
readily under the blade of my knife. 

I worked cheerlessly at this second box, — as 1 
vorked without hope. I might have spared myself the 
pains ; for during the operation the blade of ray knife 
frequently came in contact with what was inside, and 1 
knew from the soft dull object which resisted the steel 
with elastic silence, that I was coming upon cloth. I 
might have spared myself any further labor, but a kind 
of involuntary curiosity influenced me to go on, — that 
cunosity which refuses to be satisfied until demonstra- 
tion is complete and certain ; and, l^Jius impelled, 1 
hewed aw'ay mechanically, till I had reached the com- 
pletion of the task. 

The result w^as as I had expected, — the contents 
w ere cloth ! 

The knife dropped from my grasp ; and, overcome, — ' 


258 


THE BOl’ TAR. 


as much by futigue as by the faintness produced by dis* 
appointment, — I fell backward, and lay for some min 
utes in a state of partial insensibility. 

This lethargy of despair continued upon me for some 
time, — - 1 noted not how long ; but I was at length 
aroused from it by an acute pain, which I felt in the 
tip of my middle finger. It was sudden as acute, and 
resembled the pricking of a needle, or a sharp cut with 
the blade of a knife. 

I started suddenly up, thinking I had caught hold of 
my knife, — while half conscious of what I was doing, 
— for I remembered that I had thrown it with open 
blade beside me. 

In a second or two, however, I was convinced that it 
was not that which had caused me the pain. It was not 
a wound made with cold steel, but with the venomous 
tooth of a living creature. I had been bitten by a rat ! 

My lethargic indifference to my situation soon passed 
away, and was succeeded by a keen sense of fear. I 
was now convinced, more than ever, that my life was in 
danger from these hideous animals ; for this was the first 
actual attempt they had made upon my person without 
'provocation. Although my sudden movement, and the 
loud cries I involuntarily uttered, had once more driven 
them off, I felt satisfied they would become bolder anon, 
and take no heed of such idle demonstrations. I had 
threatened them too often, without making them feel my 
power to punish them. 

Clearly it would not do to go to sleep again, with my 
person exposed to their attacks ; for although my hopes 
of ultimate deliverance were now sadly diminished, and 
in all likelihood starvation was to be my fate, — still 


ANOTHER BITE. 


25& 


this kind of death was preferable to being eaten up by 
rats. The very thought of such a fate filled me with 
horror, and determined me to do all in my power to 
save myself from so fearful a doom. 

I was now very tired, and required rest. The box was 
large enough for me to have slept within it, stretched at 
full length ; but 1 thought I could more easily defend 
myself against the encroachments of the rats in my old 
quarters ; and, taking up my knife and bundle, I crawled 
back behind the butt. 

My little chamber “was now of much smaller dimen • 
sions, for in it I had stowed the cloth taken from the 
box. In fact, there was just room enough for my body 
and the bag of crumbs, — so that it was more like a 
nest than an apartment. 

With the pieces of cloth piled in one end against the 
brandy-cask, I was well defended in that quarter, and it 
only remained to close up the other end as I had done 
before. This I accomplished; and then, after eating 
my slender supper, and washing it down with copious 
libations, I sought the repose, both of body and imind, 
>f which I stood in such need. 


/ 


CHAPTER XLVJ. 

THE BALE OF LINEN. 

Mr sleep was neither very sweet nor very sound. In 
addition to my gloomy prospects, I was rendered un- 
comfortable by the hot atmosphere, — now closer than 
ever, in consequence of the stoppage of every aperture. 
No current of air, that might otherwise have cooled me, 
was permitted to reach my prison, and I might almost 
as well have been inside a heated oven. I got a little 
sleep, however, and with that little I was under the 
necessity of being satisfied. 

When fairly awake again, I treated myself to a meal, 
which might be called my breakfast; but it was cei 
tainly the lightest of all breakfasts, and did not deserve 
the name. Of water I again drank freely, for I was 
thirsty with the fever that was in my blood, and my 
head ached as if it would split open. 

All this did not deter me from returning to my work. 
If two boxes contained broadcloth, it did not follow that 
all the cargo was of this sort of merchandise, and I re- 
solved to persevere. I had made up my mind to try in 
a new direction, — that is, to tunnel through the end of 
the packing-case as I had done through its side, — the 
- end which was turned towards the outside, — for I kne^ 










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T • 


. ^ > 


I 





I 



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’• A 


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4 


« 


4 

I 


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* ■ *. 


4 • 

I 




snaiKaB 


THE BALE OF LINEN. 


261 


tliat the other rested against the side of lie ship, and 
it would be no use searching in that direction. 

Taking my bread-bag with me as before, I went to 
work with renewed hope, and after long and severe 
labor, — severe on account of the crouching attitude I 
had to keep, as also from the pain caused by my wound- 
ed thumb, — I succeeded in detaching one of the end 
pieces from its place. 

Something soft lay beyond. There was encourage- 
ment even in this. At all events, it was not another 
case of broadcloth ; but what it was, I could not guess, 
until I had laid bare the full breadth of the^ board. 
Then my hands were eagerly passed through the aper- 
ture, and with trembling fingers I examined this new 
object of interest. Coarse canvas it appeared to the 
touch ; but that was only the covering. What was 
there inside? 

Until I had taken up my knife again, and cut off a 
portion of the canvas, I knew not what it was ; but 
then, to my bitter disappointment, the real nature of the 
package was revealed. 

It proved to be linen, — a bale of fine linen, packed 
in pieces, just as the cloth had been ; but so tight that 
if I had used all my strength I could not have detached 
one piece from the bale. 

The discovery of what it was caused me greater 
chagrin than if it had proved to be broadcloth. This 1 
could take out with less difficulty, and make way to try 
farther on ; but with the linen I could do nothing, — for, 
after several attempts, I was unable to move any of the 
pieces, and as to cutting a way through them, a wall of 
adamant would scarce have been more impervious to the 


THE BOY TAR. 



262 

blade of my kni/e. It would have been the work ot a 
week at least. My provision would not keep me alive 
till I had reached the other side. But I did not specu- 
late on such a performance. It was too manifestly im- 
possible, and I turned away from it without giving it 
another thought. 

For a little while I remained inactive, considering 
what should be my next movement. I did not rest long. 
Time was too precious to be wasted in mere reflection. 
Action alone could save me ; and, spurred on by this 
thought, I was soon at work again. 

My new design was simply to clear out the cloth 
from the second box, cut through its farther side, and 
find out what lay in that direction. 

As I had already made a way into the box, the first 
thing was to remove the cloth. For the time, my knife 
was laid aside, and I commenced pulling out the pieces. 
It was no light labor, getting out the first three or four. 
Unfortunately, the ends of the webs were towards me, 
and this rendered it more difficult to separate them ; 
but I continued to tug and pull until I had extracted 
a few ; and then the work became easier. 

Just as in the other case, I found large coarse pieces 
that would not pass through the aperture I had made ; 
and not liking to take the pains to make a wider open- 
ing in the wood, I adopted the same plan I had tried 
before ; that is, to cut the cloth loose from its fastenings, 
unroll it, and draw it out by the yard. 

This was easier, I thought ; but, alas 1 it proved the 
source of a new and unexpected dilemma, — as I had 
occasion soon after to perceive. 

\ was getting on well enough, and had succeeded ic 


THE BALE OF LINEN. 


263 


clearing out a space almost large enough to work in, 
when I was suddenly brought to a stop, by finding that 
I had no room for any more cloth behind me ! The 
whole of the open space, — including my little apart- 
ment, the biscuit-box, and the other case, — was quite 
full, for I had filled each in succession as I went along. 
There was not a foot of space left, — not so much as 
would hold another web I 

This discovery did not create an immediate alarm ; 
for I did not at first perceive the full consequence of it. 
It was only after a little reflection, that I recognized the 
difficulty ; and then I saw that it was indeed a difficulty, 
— a very dangerous dilemma. 

It was plain that I could proceed no farther in my 
work without clearing off the “ back water ” that I had 
so thoughtlessly accumulated ; and how was this to bo 
done ? I could not destroy the cloth by burning, nor in 
any other way that I could think of. I could not lessen 
its bulk, for I had already pressed it together as closely 
as I had strength. How, then, was it to be disposed of? 

I now perceived the imprudence I had committed 
in unrolling the webs. This was the cause of its having 
increased so in bulk ; though not altogether, for the very 
taking out of the pieces, — on account of the tight press- 
ure they had originally undergone while being packed 
in the cases, — of itself greatly enlarged their mass. 
To restore them to the state in which I had found them, 
was no longer possible. They were littered through 
and through in the most complete confusion, and I had 
ro room to work in, even to refold them again, — since 
I could scarce move about in the constiained quarters 
and attitude I was compelled to assume. Even had I 


264 


THE BUY TAK. 


had ample space to work in, I could not easily Lave 
got the stuff back to a suitable bulk ; for the coarser 
material, — elastic as it was, — would have required a 
screw-press to bring it to its former size. I felt quite 
disheartened as I thought the thing over, — more than 
disheartened, again almost despairing. 

But no ! — it had not yet reached the point of despair 
with me. By getting enough space for another piece or 
two, 1 should have room to cut a hole through the oppo 
site side of the box, and there was still hope beyond. 
If, indeed, another case of broadcloth, or another bale 
of linen, should be found there, it would then be time to 
yield myself up to despair. 

But hope in the human breast is hard to destroy, and 
it was so in mine. So long as there is life, thought I, 
let there be hope ; and, inspired with the old proverb, I 
renewed my exertions. 

After a while, I succeeded in stowing away two more 
pieces ; and this gave me just room to creep inside the now 
nearly empty box, and go to work again with my knife. 

This time I had to cut the board across the middle, — 
as the cloth on both sides would not permit me to get at 
either end. It made little difference, however ; and when 
I had finished carving at the wood, I was able to push 
out both sections, and make an aperture sutficient for my 
purpose. I say sufficient for my purpose, — for it only 
needed a hole large enough to admit my hand ; and, once 
protruding my fingers, I was satisfied, as before, with a 
IT ost melancholy result. Another hale of linen ! 

Fatigued and faint, I could have fallen, had H been 
possible to fall lower ; but I was already upon my facci 
alike prostrate in body and soul ! 


CHAPTER XLVn. 


EXCELSIOR. 

" It was some time before I recovered strength or spirit 
to arouse myself. But for hunger, I might have re- 
mained longer in the sort of torpid lethargy into which I 
had fallen ; but nature craved loudly for sustenance. I 
could have eaten my crumbs where I lay, and would 
have done so, but that thirst carried me back to my old 
quarters. It made little difference where I slept, as I 
could have fenced myself against the rats within either 
of the boxes ; hut it was necessary to be near the water- 
butt, and this alone influenced me in the choice of my 
sleeping-place. 

It was not such an easy matter getting back to my 
former position. Many pieces of cloth had to be lifted 
out of the way and drawn behind me. They had to be 
placed carefully, — else on reaching the entrance to my 
chamber, I should not be able to clear a space large 
enough to contain my body. 

I succeeded, however, in effecting my purpose ; and, 
having eaten my morsel, and quenched my feverish 
thirst, I fell back upon the mass of cloth, and was asleep 
in the twinkling of an eye. 

I had taken the usual precaution to close flie gates of 
12 


26G 


THE BOY TAR. 


my fortress, and this time I slept my sleep out andis' 
turbed by the rats. 

In the morning, — or rather, I should say, in the 
hour of my awaking, — I again ate and drank. 1 know 
not whether it was morning ; for, in consequence of my 
watch having once or twice run down, I could no longer 
tell night from day ; and my sleep, now not regular as 
formerly, failed to inform me of the hours. What I ate 
failed to satisfy hunger. All the food that was left me 
would not have sufficed for that ; and not the least diffi 
cult part I had to perform, was the restraining myself 
from eating out my whole^ stock at a meal. I could 
easily have done it, and it required all my resolution to 
refrain. But my resolution was backed by the too cer- 
tain knowledge that such a meal would be my last, and 
my abstinence was strengthened simply by the fear of 
starvation. 

Having breakfasted, then, as sparingly as possible, 
and filled my stomach with water instead of food, I 
once more worked my way into the second cloth-box, 
determined to continue ray search as long as strength 
was left me. There was not much left now. I knew 
that whatT ate was barely sufficient to sustain life, and 
I felt that I was fast wasting away. My ribs projected 
like those of a skeleton, and it was as much as I could 
do to move the heavier pieces of the cloth. 

One end of all the boxes, as already stated, was 
placed against the side of the ship. Of course, it was 
of no use tunnelling in that direction ; but the end of 
the second case, which faced inwards, I had not yet 
tried. This was now my task. 

I need not detail the particulars of the work. It 


EXCELSIOR. 


267 


resembled that I had executed already, and laated for 
several successive hours. The result was, once again, a 
painful disappointment. Another bale of linen ! [ could 
go no farther in that direction. And now no farther in 
any direction ! 

Boxes of broadcloth and bales of linen were all 
around me. I could not penetrate beyond. I could 
not make a way through them. There was no room 
for further progress. 

This was the melancholy conclusion at which I had 
arrived, and I was once more thrown back into my de- 
spairing mood. 

Fortunately, this did not last long, for shortly after a 
train of thought came into my mind that prompted me 
to further action. It was memory that came to my aid. 
I remembered having read a book, which described very 
beautifully the struggles of a boy, amidst great diffi- 
culties, — how he bravely refused to yield to each new 
disappointment; but, by dint^of courage and persever- 
ance, overcame every obstacle, and at last obtained suc- 
cess. I remembered, too, that this boy had adopted for 
his motto, the Latin word “ Excelsior,” which was ex- 
plained to mean higher or '‘'‘U'pwardr 

On reflecting upon the struggles which this boy had 
undergone, and how he had succeeded in surmounting 
so many difficulties, — some even as great as those that 
surrounded myself, — I was nerved to make a new effort. 

But I believe it was this peculiar word, “ Excelsior,” 
that guided me in my after proceedings, for by its most 
literal sense was I directed. Upward, thought I, — I 
might search upward. Why did it not occur to me be- 
'bre ? There might be food in this direction, as likely 


268 


THE BOY TAR. 


as ia any other, and certainly I had no choice, as every 
other direction had been tried. I resolved, then, to 
search upward. 

In another minute I was upon my back, knife in 
hand. I propped myself with pieces of cloth, — so that 
I might work more conveniently, — and after groping 
out one of the divisions of the lid, I commenced notch- 
ing it crossways. 

The board at length gave way to my exertions. I 
dragged it downwards. Oh, heavens ! were my hopes 
again destined to suffer defeat and mockery ? 

Alas ! it was even so. The coarse, hard-grained can- 
vas, with the dull sodden mass behind it, answered me 
with a sad affirmative. 

There yet remained the upper side of the other case, 
and then that of the biscuit-box. Both should be tried 
as a last effort, and that before I could again sleep. 

And both were tried, with like evil fortune. Upon 
the former rested a case of the cloth, while another bale 
of linen completely covered the top of the latter. 

“ Merciful God ! am I forsaken ? ” 

Such was my exclamation as I sank back into an 
attitude of complete exhaustion. 


CHAPTER XLVIIL 


L TORRENT OF BRANDT. 

Sleep followed, brought on by weariness and long 
exertion ; and when I awoke, I felt my strength greatly 
restored. Singular enough, my spirits were a good deal 
lighter, and I was far less despairing than I had been 
before. It seemed as if some supernatural influence 
sustained me, — perhaps an inspiration given by the 
great Creator himself, to enable me to persevere. Not- 
withstanding that my disappointments had been many 
and oft-repeated, I bore up under the infliction as 
meekly as I could, and never yet had I felt in my heart 
a rebellious feeling against God. 

I still continued to offer up prayers for my success, 
and to place reliance upon the hope that His mercy 
would yet be extended to me. This feeling it was, — 
I am sure it was, — that upheld me, and kept' me from 
falling into utter despondency. 

On awaking again, as I have said, my spirits felt 
lighter, though I know not why, unless it was that I was 
cheered by some influence from above. I can only 
account for it in this way, since there was no change in 
the circumstances that surrounded me, — at least none 
for the be» ter, — nor had I conceived any new hope oi 
plan. 


270 


THE BOY TAK. 


It was certain that I could penetrate no farther through 
the boxes of cloth and bales of linen, — as I had no place 
to stow their contents behind me. That side, therefore, 
was now no longei the object of my attention. 

There were still two other directions in which I might 
search, — the one directly in front, and that toward the 
left, which last I knew to be in the direction of the bows 
of the ship. 

In front, the space was taken up by the great water- 
butt, and of course I did not think cf cutting a way 
through this. It would lead to the loss of my supply 
of water. I did for a moment imagine that I might 
make a hole high up above the water-line, through 
which I might squeeze my body, and then get through 
to the opposite side by making a second hole. I knew 
that the butt was now scarce half full, — as the heat had 
kept me almost continually athirst, and, confident in my 
supply, I had drunk large quantities. But it occurred 
to me that if I made this great opening, I might lose all 
my water in a single night. A sudden squall might 
arise, — for several had been encountered already, — 
and set the ship a rolling. In that case, if the vessel, — 
crank as she was, — came near getting upon her beam- 
ends, which she often did, my butt would be turned half 
over, and the water of course would all escape, — the 
precious water that had hitherto stood my friend, and 
but for which I should have long ago miserably perished. 

Another consideration influenced me not to touch the 
butt : there was an easier direction to proceed in, and 
that was through the brandy-cask. 

This stood end towards me, and, as already stated, 
shut me in upon the left. Its head oi bottom, — I could 



A TORRENT OF BRANDY. 


271 


not say which, — lay quite up against the end of the 
water-butt ; but for some reason it had been cleated 
closer up to the side timbers of the ship, so that there 
was hardly any vacant space behind it. For this 
reason, nearly one half of its diameter overlapped the 
end of the water-butt, — the other half completing the 
inclosure of my cabin. 

Through this last half I resolved to cut my way, and 
then, creeping inside the cask, to make another hole that 
would let me through its opposite side. 

Perhaps, beyond the brandy-cask I might find food 
and safety ? It was only blind guessing on my part ; 
but I again prayed for success. 

Making an incision across the thick oak plank that 
formed the bottom staves, was a very different affair 
from cutting through soft spruce deal, and I progressed 
but slowly. —A beginning had already been made, how- 
ever, — where I had formerly tapped the cask ; and 
entering my blade at this same hole, I worked away 
until I had cut one of the pieces clear across. I then 
put on my buskins, and, getting upon my back, kicked 
upon the stave with all my might, using my heels as a 
trip-hammer. It was a stiff job; for the piece, being 
joint(3d into the others on both sides, refused for a long 
time to yield. But the constant hammering at length 
loosened it, by breaking off one of the joinings, and I 
had the satisfaction to find that it was giving way. A 
few more strong finishing blows did the business, and 
the stave was at length forced inward. 

The immediate result was a gush of brandy that com- 
pletely overwhelmed me. It rushed over me, not in a 
jet, but in a grand volume, as thick as my body j and 


?72 


THE BOY TAR. \ 


before I could raise myself into an erect position, it 
was all over and around me, so that I had a fear I was 
going to he drowned in it ! The whole space I occu- 
pied was filled up, and it was only by holding my head 
close up to the ship’s timbers that I could keep my 
mouth clear of being filled. At the first gush a quantity 
Lad got into my throat, and eyes as well, and well-nigh 
choked and blinded me ; and it was some time before I 
got over the fit of coughing and sneezing which it had 
suddenly brought on. 

I was in no mood to be merry at the time ; yet strange 
enough, I could not help thinking of the Duke of Clar- 
ence and his odd fancy of being drowned in the butt of 
malmsey. 

The singular flood subsided almost as rapidly as it 
had risen. There was plenty of space for it down be- 
low ; and in a few seconds’ time it had all gone down to 
mix among the bilge-water, and jabble about during the 
remainder of the voyage. The only traces it had left 
were in my wet clothes, and the strong alcoholic smell 
that filled the atmosphere around me, and almost hin- 
dered me from getting breath. 

As the ship’s head rose upon the waves, the cask was 
tilted upwards, and this movement in ten minutes emp- 
tied it so completely that not a single pint remained 
inside. 

But I had not waited for this. The stave I had 
kicked out left an aperture large enough to admit my 
bofly — it did not need to be very large for that — and 
as soon as my coughing fit had ended, I squeezed my- 
self through to the inside of the cask. 

3 groped around for the bung, •— believing that this 


A TORRENT OF BRANDY. 


27S 


would be the best place to cut across one of the staves. 
The hole, usually a large one, would admit the blade of 
my knife, and would be so much of my work done to 
hand. I found the place easily enough, and fortunately 
it was not on the top, — where I fancied it might be, — 
but on the side, and just at a convenient height. Closing 
the blade of my knife, I hammered on the wooden plug 
with the haft. After a few strokes, I succeeded in 
forcing it outwards, and then set to work to make the 
cross-cut of the stave. 

I had not made a dozen notches, before I felt my 
strength wonderfully increased. I had been weak be- 
fore, but now it appeared to me as if I could push out 
the staves without cutting them. I felt in a measure 
cheerful, — as if I had been merely working for the 
play of the thing, and it was of but little consequence 
whether I succeeded or not. I have some recollection 
that I both whistled and sang as I worked. The idea 
that I was in any danger of losing my life quite forsook ~ 
me, and all the hardships through which I had been 
passing appeared to have been only imaginary, — a 
chimera of my brain, or, at most, only a dream. 

Just then I was seized with a terrible fit of thirst, 
and I remember making a struggle to get out of the 
brandy-cask for the purpose of having a drink from the 
water-butt. I must have succeeded in getting out 
the cask, but whether I actually did drink at the time, I 
could never be certain; for after that I remembered 
nothing more, but was for a long while as completely 
unconscious a.« if ' I had been dead I 
12 * 


CHAPTER XLIX. 


A NEW DANGER. 

1 REMAINED in this state of insensibility for several 
hours, and was not even troubled, — as was usual when 
I slept, — with painful dreams. I did not dream at all ; 
but, on awaking to consciousness, I had a dread feeling 
upon me, just as if I had been cast from off the earth 
into infinite space, and was rapidly floating onwards, or 
falling from some great height, without ever reaching a 
point of rest. It was a feeling of a most unpleasant 
kind, — in fact, a feeling of horror. 

Fortunately, it did not continue long; and as I en- 
deavored to rouse myself it became less painful, and at 
length passed away. In its stead, however, I felt sick 
at the stomacA, and my head ached as though it would 
split. Surely it was not the sea that had made me sick ? 
No, it could not be that. I was long since hardened 
against sea-sickness. Even another storm would not 
have brought it on ; but there was no particular rough- 
ness. The ship was sailing under breezy but not stormy 
weather. 

Was it fever that had suddenly attacked me in a 
violent manner ? or had I fainted from want of strength ? 
No ; I had experienced bo*h calamities, but this new 
fcensation resembled neither 


A NE\\' DANGER. 


275 


I was in reality at a loss to account for what was 
tiling me. In a short time, however, my thoughts be- 
came clearer, and then the truth dawned upon my mind. 
I had been in a state of intoxication ? 

Intoxication it must have been, though wine I had 
not tasted, nor brandy neither, — not a mouthful. I 
disliked it too much for that ; and although there was 
plenty of it, — or had been, for it was now all gone, — 
enough to have drowned myself in, I was not conscious 
of having drunk a drop of it. True, a drop had passed 
into my mouth, — a drop, or maybe a spoonful, had 
gone down my throat when the torrent gushed over 
me ; but surely this small quantity could not have pro- 
duced intoxication, even if it had been liquor ever so 
much above proof? Impossible ; it could not have been 
that that produced intoxication ? 

And what, then? Something had made me drunk. 
Although I had never been so in my life, yet I guessed 
the symptoms to mean only this. 

As I continued to reflect, — that is, as I grew more 
sober ^ — the mystery was cleared up, and I discovered 
the cause of my intoxication. It was not brandy, but 
the “ fumes ” of brandy, that had done it, — this, and 
nothing else. 

Even before entering the cask, I had noticed a de- 
cided change in my feelings, for the fumes of the liquor, 
even outside, were strong enough to make me sneeze ; 
but this was nothing to the effluvia which I enccuntered 
inside the vessel. At first I could scarcely breathe, but 
by little and little I became accustomed to it, and rather 
liked it. No wonder, since it was making me feel so 
itrong and happy ! 


276 


THE BOY TAR. 


On cogitating further on this singular incident, I re 
membered how I came to be outside the cask, — • how 
thirst had influenced me to come out ; and I now per- 
ceived how fortunate it was that I had followed the 
guidance of this appetite. I have said that I did not 
know whether I had actually quenched my thirst. I 
had no remembrance of going to the butt, or of drawing 
a cup of water. I think I did not get so far. Had I 
done so, in all probability I should have left out the 
vent-peg, and then a large quantity of water would 
have been spilled. The water-line would have been 
down to a level with the vent ; and this, on examination, 
I gladly perceived was not the case. Moreover, my 
drinking-cup felt too dry to have been used lately. 1 
had not drank, then, and this was a fortunate circum- 
stance, though far more fortunate was the circumstance 
that I had thirsted. Had it not been for this, I should 
no doubt have remained inside the cask, and the conse- 
quence must have been disastrous indeed. I cannot say 
what, but certainly some fatal result would have fol- 
lowed. In all likelihood, I should have remained in a 
state of intoxication, — how was I ever to get sober ? — 
every moment getting worse, until when ? Until death ! 
Who knows ? 

A mere accidental circumstance, then, had once more 
saved my life ; but perhaps it was not accidental. It 
may have been the hand of Providence, and I believed 
60 at the time. If prayers express gratitude, mine were 
given, and with all the fervor of my soul. 

Whether I had allayed my thirst or not, certain it 
was that the quenching had been but temporary ; for I 
now fell as if I could drink the butt dry. I lost no time 


A NEW DANGER. 


m 


in groping for my cup, and I am sure I did not leave 
off till I had drank nearly half a gallon of water. 

The water removed a good deal of the sickness, and 
also cleared my brains, as if it had washed them. Being 
once more restored to rny proper senses, I returned to the 
consideration of the perils by which I was surrounded. 

My first thought was about continuing the work I had 
80 abruptly left off, and only now did it occur to me that 
I might not he able to go on with it. What if I was to 
get into the same state as before, — what if my senses 
again became stupefied, and I should not have presence 
of mind or resolution to come out of the cask ? 

Perhaps I might labor away for a while without get- 
ting into the same state, and if 1 felt it coming on me I 
could hasten out. Perhaps ! But should it be other- 
wise ? If the intoxication should come suddenly upon 
me, — how then ? How long had it been before I felt 
it on the former occasion ? I tried to remember, but 
could not. 

I remembered how this strange influence had stolen 
over me, — how soothingly and- sweetly it came, wrap- 
ping my senses as if in a delightful dream. How it 
bad made me reckless of consequences, — forgetful even 
of my appalling situation ! 

Supposing that all was to be repeated, — the same 
scene to be enacted over again, — and only one incident 
to be left out : that is, the thirst which brought me forth 
from the cask, — supposing all this ? And why might 
it not be just what would take place ? I could not 
answer the question one way or the other ; but so 
Strong were my apprehensions of the probability that 
it might, that I hesitated to reenter the cask ' 


278 


THE BOY TAR. 


There was no help for it, however. I must either do 
so, or die where I lay. If death in the end was to be 
my fate, better far, thought I, to die by this apparently 
easy mode ; for I felt convinced, from the experience I 
had had, that such death would be without a pang. 

The reflection emboldened me — as well as the knowl- 
edge that I had no alternative, no choice of plan ; and 
again pronouncing a prayer I crawled back into thi 
brandy-cask. 


CHAPTER L. 


WHERE WAS MY KNIFE? 

On entering, I groped about for my knife. I had 
quite forgotten how or where I had laid it down. I had 
already searched for it outside, but without success ; and 
I concluded that I must have left it behind me in the 
cask. I was surprised at not laying my hand upon it at 
once, for although I ran my fingers all around the under 
side of the vessel, nothing like a knife did I touch. 

I was beginning to feel alarmed about it. It might 
be lost, and if so, all hopes of deliverance would be at 
an end. Without the knife, I could proceed no farther 
in any direction, but might lie down inactive to abide 
my fate. Where could the knife be? Was it likely 
that the rats had carried it off? 

I again backed out of the cask, and made a new 
search outside ; but not finding what I was looking for, 
I once more crept into the barrel, and once more felt it 
all over, — that is, every part of it where a knife could 
lie. 

I was very near going out again, when it occurred to 
me to raise my hands a little higher, and examine the 
bung-hole, at which I had been working when I last had 
the knife in my hands. It may be there, thought I 


280 


THE BOY TAR. 


and to my joy it was there, sticking in the notch I had 
been cutting with it. 

I set to work, without further delay, to widen the hole 
crossways ; but the blade, from so much use, had become 
“dull as a beetle,” and my progress through the hard 
oaken stave was as slow as if I had been cutting through 
a stone. I carved away for a quarter of an hour, with- 
out making the notch the eighth part of an inch deeper ; 
and I almost despaired of ever getting through the 
stave. 

I now felt the singular influence again coming over 
me, and could have remained without much fear, — for 
such is the etfect of intoxication ; but I had promised 
myself that the moment I became aware of any change, 
1 should retreat from the dangerous spot. Fortunately, 
I had resolution, and barely enough, to keep my prom- 
ise ; and, before it was too late, I dragged myself back 
to the rear of the water-butt. 

It was well I did so at the very time, for had I 
remained in the brandy-cask but ten minutes longer, 
beyond doubt I should have been hopelessly insensible. 
As it was, I already felt quite “ happy,” and remained 
so for some time. 

But as the alcoholic influence departed, I grew more 
miserable than ever, — for I now perceived that this 
unexpected obstacle to my progress was about to ruin 
all my hopes. 1 believed that I could return at inter- 
vals, and go on with the work ; but only at long intervals, 
and now that the blade of my knife had grown so blunt, 
I could make but little progress. It would be days be- 
fore I should get through the side of the cask ; and days 
were denied me. The small store of crumbs was sadly 


/ 


WHERE WAS MY KNIFE? 


281 


rv luced ; in fact, I was on my last handful. I had not 
enough to keep me alive for three days ! The chances 
of saving my life were growing narrower with every 
fresh move, and I was fast giving way to despair. Had 
I been sure that after cutting through the cask I should 
nave found relief on the other side, I might have con- 
templated the enterprise with more eagerness and en- 
ergy ; but this was worse than doubtful. There were 
ten chances to one against my finding a box of biscuits, 
or anything that was eatable. 

One advantage had arisen from my breaking into the 
brandy-cask, which now occurred to me in full force. It 
had given me a large empty space ; and therefoiv, ir I 
could only get beyond, — even though there should not 
be a package containing food, — still it might be some- 
thing which I could remove into the inside of the cask, 
and thus make way for farther operations. 

This was certainly a fresh phase which my situation 
had assumed ; but a still better idea succeeded, that lent 
a new and joyous aspect to my thoughts. It was this : 
If I could so - easily cut my way from box to box, as I 
had already proved, why might 1 not tunnel upwards^ 
and reach the deck f 

The thought startled me. It was quite new. It had 
not occurred to me before, — strangely enough it had 
not, — and I can only explain its tardy conception by 
the fact of the confused state of mind in which I had 
all along been, and which might have led me to deem 
such an enterprise an impossibility. 

No doubt there were numberless packages heaped 
over me, one upon another. No doubt the hold was quite 
^ ^ull of them, and I kn \v that I was near the bottom of 


282 


THE BOY TAR. 


all. I remembered, too, — what had puzzled me at the 
time, — that the stowage had continued for a long time 
after I came aboard, — that for two days and nights the 
work seemed to be going on, and therefore the whole 
cargo must have been placed above me. Still, withal, 
a dozen large boxes would reach to the top, or, maybe, 
not half so many would fill up to the deck. Allowing a 
day to the cutting through each one, I might be able to 
reach the top in about a week or ten days ! 

Though a joyful thought, it would have been far 
more welcome at an earlier period, but it now came 
accompanied by the wildest regrets. Perhaps it had 
come too late to save me ? Had 1 begun aright ? — 
when I had my full box of biscuits, I might easily 
have carried the plan into execution ; but now, alas ! 
scarce a morsel remained ; and it seemed hopeless to 
attempt what I had conceived. 

Still, I could not surrender up this alluring prospect 
of life and freedom ; and, stifling all idle regrets, I gave 
my mind to its further consideration. 

Time, of course, was now the important matter, 
and that which caused me the greatest anxiety. I 
feared that even before I could accomplish an open- 
ing on the farther side of the empty barrel, my food 
would be all consumed, and my strength quite exhaust- 
ed. Perhaps I should die in the middle of my work, — 
hterally “ in the breach.” — 

While pondering thus, another new thought came 
uppermost in my mind. It was also a good idea 
however horrid it may seem to those who do not hun- 
ger. But hunger and the dread of starvation have 
the effect of simplifying the choice of a man’s appetite, 


WHERE WAS MY, KNIFE? 


288 


and under such circumstances the stomach ceases to be 
dainty. 

Mine had long since lost all niceness, and was no 
longer squeamish as to the sort of food I might swallow. 
In fact, 1 could have eaten anything that was eatabU 
Aud now for the new idea. 


CHAPTER LI. 

A GRAND RAT-TRAP. 

For some time I have said nothing of the rats. Do 
not fancy, from this silence about them, that they had 
gone away and left me to myself! They had done no 
such thing. They were around and about me, as brisk 
as ever, and as troublesome. Bolder they could not 
have been, unless they had positively assailed me ; and 
no doubt such would have been the case, had I exposed 
myself to their attack. 

But, whenever I moved, my first care had been to 
close them out, by means of walls, which I constructed 
with pieces of cloth, and thus only had I kept them at 
bay. Now and then, when I had passed from place to 
place, I could hear and feel them all around me ; and 
twice or three times had I been bitten by one or another. 
It was only by exercising extreme vigilance and caution, 
that I was enabled to keep them from attacking me. 

This parenthesis will, no doubt, lead you to anticipate 
what I am coming to, and enable you to guess what was 
the idea that had taken possession of my mind. It had 
occurred to me, then, that instead of letting the rats eat 
xme, 1 should eat them. That was it exactly. 

I fell no disgust at the thought of such food, — nor 


A GRAND RAT-TRAFc 


285 


would you, if placed in a situation similar to mine. On 
the contrary, I hailed the idea as a welcome one, since 
it promised to enable me to carry out my plan of cutting 
my way up to the deck, — in other words, of saving my 
life. Indeed, as soon as I had conceived it, I felt as if I 
was actually saved. It only remained to carry out the 
intention. 

I knew there were many rats, — too many, I had 
thought before, — but now I cared not how plentiful 
they were. At all events, there were enough of them 
to ration ” me for a long while, — I hoped long enough 
for my purpose. The question was, how should I cap- 
ture them ? 

I could think of no other way but by feeling for them 
with my hands, and boldly grasping them, one at a time, 
and so squeezing the life out of them. I had already 
given my attention to trapping them without success. I 
had, as you know, killed one, by the only ingenuity I 
could think of, and likely enough I might get one or two 
more in the same way, but it was just as likely I might 
not ; or even if I succeeded in killing one or two, the 
rest might become shy of me, and then the supply would 
stop. Better, therefore, to consider some plan for cap- 
turing a large number of them at once, and so have a 
larder that would last me for ten or twelve days. Per- 
haps by that time I might be within reach of more pal- 
atable food. This would be wiser, as well as safer; 
and I remained for a long while considering how I 
should make a wholesale capture. 

Necessity is the parent of invention ; and I suppose 
by the help of this, more than from any real genius I 
possessed for contriving, I at last succeeded in sketch 


y 


28 (> THE BOY TAR. 

ing out the plan of a rat-trap. It was certainly of 
the simplest kind, but I felt pretty sure it would be 
effective. I should make me a large bag out of the 
broadcloth, which I could easily do, by cutting a piece 
of the proper length, and sewing up the two sides with 
a string. Strings I had in plenty, for the rolls of cloth 
had been tied with strong pieces of twine, and of course 
these were at hand. I should use the blade of my 
knife for a needle, and by the same instrument I should 
be enabled to reef around the mouth of the bag a 
strong piece of the twine, to act as a draw-string. 

I not only should do all this, but did it without further 
delay ; for in less than an hour I had my bag (nel^ I 
called it) quite finished, draw-string reefed arouni the 
mouth, and all complete for action 


CHAPTER m 


A WHOLESALE TAKE. 

I NOW proceeded to the further carrying out of my 
design, — which had all been matured while I waa 
working at the bag. The next step was the “ setting 
of the net,” and this was done as follows : — 

I first cleared away the loose bundles so as to make a 
large space, — in fact, the whole of my original apart- 
ment. This I was able to accomplish by means of the 
ompty brandy-cask, which I had now filled with broad- 
cloth. I also stopped up every aperture and crevice as 
before, leaving only one large one, — that which I knew 
the rats were accustomed to use as their principal en- 
trance. 

Right in front of this I placed my bag, — with its 
opened mouth covering the whole aperture, — and with 
the remainder kept in a state of extension by means 
of several props of sticks, which I had cut for the 
purpose to a proper length. Then placing myself on 
my knees by the mouth of the bag, I held it wide 
open, and also kept the draw-string ready between my 
fingers. In this attitude I awaited the coming of the 
rats. 

I knew they would enter the bag, for I had there 


288 


THE BOY TAR. 


placed a bait for them. This bait consisted of some 
crumbs of biscuit, — the very last I had, — as sailors 
would say, the “ last shot in the locker.” I was risking 
all upon the cast ; and should the rats eat all up and 
then escape, I should not have a scrap left me for 
another meal. 

I knew some of them would come, but I was in dcubt 
whether they would arrive in numbers sufficient to make 
a good haul, I feared they might come one at a time, 
and thus carry off the bait piecemeal ; and to prevent 
this, I had ground the crumbs to very dust. This, I 
thought, would delay the first comers until a large 
assemblage had got into the bag, and then it was my 
intention to cut off their retreat by drawing the strings 
upon them. 

Fortune favored me. I had not been upon my knees 
more than a minute, when I heard the pattering of the 
little paws of the rats outside, and also the occasional 

queek-queek ” of their sharp voices. In another sec- 
ond or two, I felt the bag moving between my fingers, 
and knew that my victims were creeping inside. The 
shaking of the cloth became more violent, and I was 
able to perceive that large numbers were crowding in, 
eager to get part of the powdered biscuits. I could 
feel them scrambling about, leaping over one another, 
and squealing as they quarrelled. 

This was my cue for drawing the string ; and in the 
next instant I had it pulled all taut, and the mouth of 
the bag gathered close and firmly tied. 

Not a rat that had entered got out again ; and I had 
the satisfaction to find that the bag was about half full 
of these savag 3 creatures. 


A WHOLESALE TAKE. 


289 


I lost no time in taming them, however ; and this 1 
effected in a somewhat original manner. 

There was one part of the floor of mi apartment 
that was level and firm. By removing the cloth off it, 
it was quite hard, — being the oak timbers of the ship 
itself. Upon this I deposited the bag of rats, and then, 
laying a large piece of deal board on the top, I mounted 
on this board, upon my knees, and then pressed it down- 
ward with all my weight and strength. 

For a while the bag underneath felt as elastic as a 
spring mattress, and heaved upward with a tendency to 
roll from under the board, but I replaced the latter with 
my hands, and then pounced upon it as before. There 
was, no doubt, a deal of kicking, and scrambling, and 
biting within the bag, and I am sure there was plenty 
of squealing, for that I heard. I gave no heed to such 
demonstrations, but kept churning on till every motion 
had ceased, and all was silence underneath. 

I now ventured to take up the bag, and examine its 
contents. I was gratified at the wholesale slaughter I 
had committed. There was evidently a large number 
of rats within the trap, and every one of them dead as 
a door-nail ! 

At all events, none of them seemed to be stirring, for 
when I held the bag up by its mouth, it hung down 
perfectly still, and there was neither kick nor squeak 
inside ; and therefore I took it for granted that I had 
killed them all. 

Notwithstanding this belief, when I proceeded to count 
them, I inserted my hand with great caution, and drew 
them one by one out of the bag. There were ten of 
them ! 


IS 


290 


THE BOY TAR. 


y 


“ Ha ! ha ! ” exclaimed I, apostioi)hizing the dead 
mts, “ I’ve got you at last, you ugly brutes ! and 
this serves you right for the trouble you have put me to. 
If one good turn deserves another, I suppose so doe? 
one evil one. Had you let me and mine alone, this 
ill fortune might not have befallen you. But you left 
me no alternative. You ate my biscuits, and, to save 
myself from starving, I am compelled to eat you ! ” 

This apostrophe ended, I commenced skinning one of 
the rats, with the intention of dining upon him. 

You may fancy that I anticipated the meal with a 
feeling of disgust, but in this you would be greatly mis- 
taken. Hunger had cured me of all daintiness. I had 
not the slightest repugnance for the food of which I Was 
about to partake. On the contrary, I longed to be at it, 
as much as you might do for a dinner of the most deli- 
cate viands. 

So keen was my hunger, that I could hardly wait till 
I had stripped off the skin ; and five minutes after this 
operation was finished, I had bolted the rat raw, — 
body, bones, and all ! 

If you are anxious to know how it tasted, I can only 
tell you that I observed nothing disagreeable about it, 
no more than if it had been the leg of a fowl, or a slice 
off the most delicate mutton. It was the first flesh-meat 
I had eaten for weeks, and this may have added to my 
zest for such food. Certainly, I thought, at the time, 
that a sweeter morsel had never gone down my throat, 
and no longer felt wonder at what books had told me 
about the rat-eating Laplanders 


CHAPTER Lin. 


ABOUT PACE I 

Tub asfject of my affairs had now undergone a com- 
plete change for the better. My larder was replenished 
with store enough to last me for ten days, at the least, — 
for I made a sort of resolution that my future ration 
should be one rat per diem. In ten days what might 
I not effect? Surely I should be able to accomplish 
the great feat which I ought to have attempted at the 
first, but which, as ill fortune would have it, I had hith- 
erto considered impossible, — that is, to cut my way to 
the deck. 

A rat a day, reflected I, will not only keep me alive, 
but restore some of my spent strength ; and laboring 
constantly for ten days, I should be almost certain to 
reach the topmost tier of the cargo. Perhaps in less 
time ? If less, all the better ; but certainly in ten days 
I might get through them all, even though there should 
be ten tiers of boxes between me and the upper deck. 

Such were the new hopes with which the successful 
rat-catching had inspired me, and my mind was restored 
to a state of confidence and equanimity that had long 
been a stranger to it. 

I had one apprehension that still slightly troubled me. 


292 


THE BOY TAR. 


and that was about getting through the cask. It was 
not the fear of the time it might take, for I no longer 
believed that I should be pinched for time ; but I was 
still in dread lest the fumes of the brandy (which inside 
the cask were as strong as ever) might again overcome 
my senses, despite all my resolution to guard against 
a too long exposure to them. Even when I had en- 
tered the cask on the second occasion, it was as much aa 
I could do to drag myself out of it again. 

I resolved, however, to steel myself against the se- 
ductions of the potent spirit that dwelt within the great 
barrel, and retreat before I felt its influence too strong 
to be resisted. 

Notwithstanding that I was now more confident as 
regarded time, I had no thought of wasting it in idle- 
ness ; and as soon as my dinner was washed down by a 
copious libation from the water-butt, I possessed myself 
once more of my knife, and proceeded towards the empty 
cask, to take a new spell at enlarging the bung-hole. 

Ha ! the cask was not empty. It was full of cloth. 
In the excitement of trapping the “ vermin,” I had for 
gotten the circumstance of my having placed the cloth 
within the empty barrel. 

Of course, thought I, I must remove it again, in order 
to make room for my work ; and laying aside the knife, 
I commenced pulling out the pieces. 

While thus engaged, a new reflection arose, and I 
asked myself some questions, to the following effect : — 

Why am I removing the cloth from the brandy-cask ? 
Why not let it remain there ? Why try to go through 
the cask at all ? 

Certainly there was no reason why I should proceed 


about face. 


29S 


In that direction. There had been^ at an earlier period 
— while I was only searching for food, and not thinking 
of the object I now desired and hoped to accomplish, — 
but for my newly-conceived enterprise, there was no 
necessity to cut through the cask at all. On the con- 
trary, it would be the worst direction I could take. It 
did not lie in the line which would lead to the hatch- 
way, and that was the line in which my tunnel ought to 
point. I was pretty certain as to the direction of the 
hatch, — for I remembered how I passed from it to the 
water-butt when I first came into the hold. 

I had struck sharply to the right, and gone in a nearly 
direct line for the end of the butt. All these little points 
I distinctly remembered, and I was confident that my 
position was somewhere near the middle of the ship, on 
the side which sailors would call the “ starboard beam.” 
To go through the cask, therefore, would lead me too 
far aft of the main hatchway, which was that by which 
I had come down. Moreover, there was still the diflS- 
culty of broaching the side of the cask, — greatly exag- 
gerated, of course, by the dangerous atmosphere I should 
be compelled to breathe while effecting it. 

Why, then, should I attempt it at all? Why not 
return, and proceed once more in the direction of the 
boxes ? Circumstances were changed since I was last 
there. I could now find vent for my “ backwater,” — 
since the empty cask would serve for that, in one case 
as well as the other. Besides, it would be much easier 
to cut through the deal board than the hard oak; and, 
moreover, I had made some progress in that, — the 
right, — direction already. Therefore, considering all 
things, — the danger as well as the difficulty, - - I came 


294 


THE BOY TAR. 


to the conclusion tliat, by tunnelling through the cask, 1 
would be heading the wrong way ; and, in this belief, I 
turned right about, determined to take the other. 

Before proceeding to the boxes, I repacked tlie clotli 
into the cask, and added more, — placing it piece by 
piece, with sufficient care, and afterwards wedging it in 
as tightly as my strength would permit. 

I was considerate, also, to return my nine rats to the 
hag, and draw the string ; for I suspected that I had 
not killed all the rats ui the ship, and I feared that the 
comrades of the defu.i.3t nine might take a fancy to eat 
their old shipmates. This I had been told was not an 
uncommon habit of the hideous brutes, and I determined 
to guard against it, - — so far as my victims were con* 
cerned. 

When these arrangements were completed, I swai* 
lowed a fresh cup of water, and crawled once more into 
one of the empty boxes. 


CHAPTER LIV. 


CONJECTUKE8. 

It was into the cloth-case which I had entered, —i 
that one which lay contiguous to tho box that had con- 
tained the biscuits. It was from it I determined to start 
with my new tunnel ; and I had two reasons for making 
it my terminus : first, because I believed that it was 
situated almost in a direct line with the main hatchway 
For that matter, so too was the biscuit-box j but the 
latter was smaller than the cloth-case, and therefore 
would not afford me so much room to carry on my 
work. 

The second reason, however, which influenced my 
choice, was of more importance. I had already ascer- 
tained that another cloth-case stood on the top of this 
one, whereas the biscuit-box had bales of liner , — both 
on the top, and at that end through which I should have 
to make way. Now, I was convinced that I could much 
more easily remove the pieces of cloth than the hard 
rolls of linen, — indeed I was not certain that these 
could be stirred at all, — and therefore it was that I 
made choice of the cloth-case. 

Once inside it, you will suppose that I went immedi- 
ately to work ; but no. I remained for a considerable 


296 


THE BOY TAR. 


lime without moving either hand or arm. I was not 
idle, however, for all that, but busy with all the facultiep 
of my mind in full action. 

In fact, the plan^I had just conceived, had awakened 
in me a sort of new energy ; and the hopes of safety 
that now presented themselves were as strong, and 
stronger, than any I had entertained since the first hour 
of my captivity. The prospect, too, w'as far brighter. 
Even after my discovery of the butt of water and box 
of biscuits, — even when I believed there would be a 
sufficient quantity of both to last out the voyage, there 
was still the long imprisonment before me, — months of 
silent and wretched solitude to be endured. 

Now it w^as different. In a few days, if fortune 
favored me, I should once more gaze upon the bright 
sky, — once more breathe the free air of heaven, — 
once more look upon the facer, of men, and listen to 
the sweetest of all sounds, — the voices of my fellow 
creatures. 

I felt like one long lost in the desert, who beholds 
afar off upon the horizon some signs of the habitation of 
civilized men. Perhaps the dark outlines of trees, — 
perhaps the blue smoke rising over some distant fire, — 
but something that produces within him a hope that he 
will soon be restored to the association of his fellow-men. 

Just such a hope had sprung up within me, — every 
moment becoming stronger, till it amounted almost to a 
feeling of certainty. 

It was perhaps this very confidence that ‘ kept me 
from rushing too hastily towards the execution of my 
plan. It was a matter of too much importance to be 
trifled with, — an enterprise too grand either to be 


CONJECTURES. 


297 


commenced or carried through in a reckless or hurried 
manner. Some unforeseen object might become an 
obstacle, — some accident might arise, which would lead 
to failure and ruin. 

To avoid all chances of this, therefore, I resolved to 
proceed with as much caution as I could command ; 
and before making any commencement of the work 
designed, to consider it in all its bearings. For this 
puipose, I sat down within the cloth-case, and yielded 
up my whole power of thought to an examination of 
my intended task. 

One thing appeared very clear to me, — that the task 
would be one of very considerable magnitude. As 
already stated, I knew that I was near the bottom of 
the hold and I was not ignorant of the great depth of 
the hold ot a large ship. I remembered that in slipping 
down the rope-tackle, it was as much as I could do to 
hold on till I had reached the bottom ; and a glance 
upward after I had reached it, showed the hatchway a 
vast height above me. I reasoned, then, that if all that 
space was filled with merchandise quite up to the hatch, 
— and no doubt it was, — then I should have a long 
tunnel to make. 

Besides, I should not only have to cut upwards, but 
also in a direction leading towards the hatchway, — that 
is, nearly half across the breadth of the ship. This last 
did not trouble me so much ; for I was pretty sure I 
would not be able to go in a direct line, on account of 
the nature of the packages I should encounter. A bale 
of linen, for instance, or some like uuwieldly substance, 
would have to be got round ; and, at each stage, I 
should have a choice either to proce#^d upward or in 
13* 


298 


THE BOY TAR. 


\ 


a horizontal direction, — whichever might appear the 
easiest. 

In this way I should rise by steps, as it were, ob- 
liquing always in the direction of the hatchway 

Neither the number of the packages I might have to 
burrow through, nor the distance, troubled me so much 
as the materials which they might contain. It was this 
thought which gave me the most concern ; for the diffi- 
culty would be greater or less according to the materials 
I should have to remove out of my way. Should many 
of the articles prove to be of that kind, that, when taken 
out of the cases, would become more bulky, and could 
not be compressed again, then I should have to dread 
the “ backwater ; ” and in reality this was one of the 
worst of my apprehensions. I had experienced already 
what a misfortune it would be, since, but for the lucky 
circumstance of the brandy-cask, the plan I was now 
about to attempt would have been altogether impracti- 
cable. 

Linen I dreaded more than any other material. It 
would be more difficult to get through, and when re- 
moved from its close-pressed bales, could not possibly 
be repacked in so small a space. I could only hope, 
therefore, that the cargo contained a very small quantity 
of this beautiful and useful fabric. 

I thought over many things whi^h might be com- 
prised in that great wooden chamber. I e\en tried to 
remember what sort of a country Peru was, and what 
articles of commerce would be most likely to be carried 
there from England. But I could make very little of 
this train of reasoning, — so ignorant was I of commer 
cial geography. One thing was certain : it was what is 


CONJECTURES. 


299 


called an “ assorted cargo,” for such are the cargoes 
usually sent to the seaports of the Pacific. I might, 
therefore, expect to encounter a little of this, and a little 
of that, — in short, everything produced in our great 
manufacturing cities. 

After I had spent nearly half an hour in this sort of 
conjecturing, I began to perceive that it could serve no 
purpose. It woull be only guesswork, at best, and it 
was evident I could not tell what quality of metal the 
mine contained, until I had first sunk my shaft. 

The moment to commence that labor had arrived; 
and, throwing refiection for the time behind me, I 
betook myself to the task. 


/ 


CHAPTER LV. 


THE LUXURY OF STANDING ERECT. 

It ^ill be remembered that in my former expedition 
into the two boxes of cloth, — while in hopes of finding 
more biscuits, or something else that was eatable, — I 
'had ascertained the sort of packages that surrounded 
them, as well as those that were placed above. It will 
be remembered, also, that on that end of the first cloth- 
case which lay towards the hatchway, I had found a 
bale of linen ; but on the top of the same case rested 
another of cloth, apparently similar to itself. Into this 
one on the top I had already effected an entrance ; and 
therefore I could now count upon having made so much 
way upward. By emptying the upper case of its con- 
tents, I should thus have gained one clear stage in the 
right direction ; and considering the time and trouble it 
took to hew my way through the side of one box, and 
then through the adjacent side of another, this portion 
of my work already accomplished was a matter of con- 
gratulation. I say already accomplished, for it only 
remained to drag down the pieces of cloth contained in 
the upper box, and stow them away to the rear. 

To do this, then, was the first act of my new enter- 
prise, and I proceeded to -its execution without furthe? 
delay. 


THE LUXURY OF STANDING ERECT. 


301 


After all, it did not prove a very easy task. .1 expe- 
rienced the same difficulty as before, in detaching the 
pieces of cloth from one another, and drawing them 
forth from their tightly-fitting places. However, I suc- 
ceeded in getting them clear ; and then taking them, 
one at a time, I carried, or rather pushed them before 
me, until I had got them to the very farthest comer of 
my quarters, by the end of the old brandy-cask. There 
I arranged them, not in any loose or negligent manner, 
but with the greatest precision and care ; packing them 
into the smallest bulk, and leaving no empty corners 
between them and the timbers big enough to have given 
room to a rat. 

Not that I cared about rats sheltering themselves 
there. I no longer troubled my head about them ; and 
although I had reason to know that there were still some 
of them in the neighborhood, my late sanguinary razzia 
among them had evidently rendered them afraid to come 
within reach of me. The terrible screeching which their 
companions had uttered, while I was pounding the life 
out of them, had rung loudly all through the hold of the 
ship, and had acted upon those of the survivors, that had. 
heard it, as a salutary warning. No doubt they were 
greatly frightened by what they had heard ; and per- 
ceiving that I was a dangerous fellow-passenger, would 
be likely to give me a “ wide berth ” during the re- 
mainder of the voyage. 

It was not any thought about the rats, then, that 
caused me to calk up every corner so closely; but 
simply with the view of economizing space, — for, as 
[ have already said, this was the point about which 
I had the greatest apprehensions. 


502 


THE BOY TAR. 


Proceeding, then, in this vigorous but careful manner, 
I at length emptied the upper box, and finished by stow- 
ing away its contents behind me. I had managed (he 
latter to my entire satisfaction, and I was under the 
belief that I had repacked the pieces of cloth in such a 
manner as to lose scarcely the bulk of one of them of 
my valuable space. 

The result had an encouraging effect upon me, and 
produced a cheerfulness of spirits to which I had long 
been a stranger. In this pleasant mood I mounted into 
the upper box, — the one which I had just cleared, — 
and after placing one of the loose boards across the bot- 
tom, which had been partially removed, I sat down 
upon it, leaving my legs to hang over into the empty- 
space below. In this attitude, which was entirely new 
to me, and in which I had plenty of room to sit upright 
and at my ease, I found a new source of gratification. 
Confined so long within a chamber whose greatest 
height was little over three feet, while my own was 
four, 1 had been compelled to stoop in a crouching atti- 
tude whenever I attempted to stand ; and I was even 
obliged to sit with my legs bent, and my knees on a 
level with my chin. These inconveniences are but 
slight, when one has only to suffer them for a short 
while ; but under long endurance, they become irksome 
and even painful. It was, therefore, not only a release, 
but a great luxury to me, to find that I had room 
enough to sit upright, and with my legs at full stretch. 
Better still, I could also stand erect, for the two boxes 
now communicated with each other, and it was full six 
feet from the bottom of the one to the top of the other 
Of course, m\ \\ \ eight being only Tour, left two fee# 


THE LUXURY OF STANDING ERECT. 


'303 


of space between the crown of my head and the ceiling 
of my new apartment, which I could not even touch 
with the tips of my fingers. 

Perceiving my advantages, I did not remain long 
seated. I had gone into the upper box, chiefly for the 
purpose of making a survey of its dimensions, and also 
to ascertain w'hether I had quite cleared out its con- 
tents ; and then I had sat down as described. But I 
was not long in this attitude, when it occurred to me 
that I could enjoy a “stand up” still better; and with 
this idea I slipped back again till my feet rested on the 
bottom of the lower case, while my head, neck, and 
shoulders remained within the compartment of the 
upper. This gave me an attitude perfectly erect, and I 
was not slow in perceiving that this was for me the true 
position of rest. Contrary to the usual habit of human 
bipeds, standing was to me easier than sitting ; but there 
was nothing odd about the thing, when it is remembered 
how many long days and nights I had spent either seated 
or on my knees ; and I now longed to assume that proud 
attitude which distinguishes mankind from the rest of 
creation. In truth, I felt it to be a positive luxury to 
be permitted once more to stand at full height ; and for 
a long while I remained in this attitude without moving 
a limb. 

I was not idle, however. My mind was active as 
ever ; and the subject with which it was occupied was 
the direction- in which I should next carry my tunnel, — 
whether still upward, through the lid of the newly-emp- 
tied case, or whether through the end that lay toward 
the hatchway ? The choice lay between a horizordal and 
a vertical direction. There were reasons in favor 


304 , 


THE BOY TAR. 


each, — and reasons ajso that influenced me against one 
and the other, — and to weigh these reasons, and finally 
determine upon which direction I should take, was a 
matter of so much importance, that it was a good while 
before I could bring my plans to a satisfactory ooncla- 
fikui. 




V 


- CHAPTER LVI. 


SHIP-SHAPE. 

There was one reason that would have influenced 
me to cut upward through the lid. It was, that by tak- 
ing that direction, I should arrive the sooner at the top 
of all the packages ; and once there, I might find a 
vacant space between them and the timbers of the deck, 
through which I could crawl at once to the hatchway. 
This would give me less tunnelling to do, since the ver- 
tical line would be shorter than that passing diagonally 
to the hatch. In fact, every foot gained in a horizontal 
direction would appear to be no gain at all, since there 
would still be the same height to be reached vertically. 

It was highly probable there was a space between 
the cargo and the under-side of the deck timbers ; and 
in the hope that this might be so, I made up my mind 
not to proceed in the horizontal direction unless when I 
should be forced out of the other by some obstacle that 
I could not remove. For all this, I resolved to make 
my first cut horizontally ; and three reasons guided me 
in this resolve. The first was, that the end-boards of 
the case appeared somewhat loose, as if they could be 
easily got out of the way. The second was, that in 
thrusting the blade of my knife through the slits of the 


506 


THE BOY TAR. 


lid, it touched against a soft but stiff substance, which 
had all the “feel” of one of those dreaded packages 
which had hitherto proved so often an obstacle, and 
which I had already most bitterly anathematized. 

I tried the slit in several places, and still touched 
what appeared to be a bale of linen. At the end of the 
case I made trial also, but there it was wood that resisted 
the point of my blade. It appeared to be deal, and the 
same as the other boxes were made of ; but even had it 
proved to be timber of the hardest kind, it would be 
easier to cut a hole through it than through a bale of 
linen. 

This reason would have been of itself sufficient to 
have influenced me to choose the horizontal direction ; 
but there was still a third that offered itself to my view. 

This third reason will not be so easily understood by 
those who are unacquainted with the interior of the 
hold of a ship, — particularly such ships as were built 
in the time of which l am speaking, — which you will 
remember was a great many years ago. In ships of 
the proper shape, — such as the Americans have taught 
us to build, — the reason I am about to give would not 
have any application. 

But I shall enter into particulars, so that you may 
comprehend it; and, at the same time, in this trifling 
digression from the thread of my narrative, I hope, 
young friends, to teach you a lesson of political wisdom 
that may benefit both you and your country when you 
are old enough to practise it. 

I hold the doctrine, — or, I should rather say, I have 
long been aware of the fact (for there is no “ doctrine ” 
about it), that the study which is usually styled POLITI- 


SHIP-SHAPE. 


307 


CAL Science, is the most important study that ever 
occupied the attention of men. It embraces and inSu- 
ences all other existences in the social world. Every 
art, science, or manufacture hinges upon this, and de- 
pends upon it for success or failure. Ev^en morality 
itself is but a corollary of the political state, and crime 
a consequence of its bad organization. The political 
status of a country is the main cause of its happiness or 
its misery. In no case has government reached any- 
thing approaching to justice ; hence, there is no people 
who ever has, as a whole, enjoyed ordinary happiness. 
Poverty, misery, crime, degradation, are the lot of the 
majority in every land, — except one, — and in that one 
there is yet nothing near perfection in government, — 
only a step in advance. 

As I have said, then, the laws of a country, — in 
other words, its 'political condition, — influence almost 
everything: the ship we sail in, the carriage we ride in, 
the implements of our labor, the utensils we employ in 
our dwellings, even the comfort of our dwellings them- 
selves. Nay more, and of still greater importance, they 
influence ourselves^ — the shape of our bodies, and the 
disposition of our souls. The dash of a despot’s pen, or 
a foolish act passed in Parliament, which might appear 
to have no personal application to any one, may exert a 
secret and invisible influence, that, in one single genera- 
tion, will make a whole people wicked in soul and igno- 
ble in person. 

I could prove what I state with the certainty of a 
geometric truth, but I have no time now. Enough if I 
give you an illustration. Hear it, then : — 

Many years ago a law was passed in the British Par- 


308 


THE BOY TAK. 


liament for the taxation of ships, — for they, like every 
thing else, must pay for their existence. There was a 
difficulty how to proportion this tax. It would scarcely 
be just to make the owner of a poor little schooner pay 
the enormous sum required from him who is the pro- 
- prietor of a grand ship" of two thousand tons. It would 
at once eat up the profits of the lesser craft, and swamp 
her altogether. How, then, was this difficulty to be got 
over? A reasonable solution appeared. Tax each 
vessel in proportion to her tonnage. 

The scheme was adopted ; but then another difficulty 
presented itself. How was this proportion to be ob- 
tained ? It was by hulk that the ships, were to be taxed ; 
but tonnage is weighty not bulk. How, then, was this 
new difficulty to be got over ? Simply by taking some 
standard size as the weight of a ton, and then ascertain- 
ing how many of these sizes the vessel would contain. 
In fact, after all, it came to measurement, not weight. 

Next came the idea as to how the measurement was 
to be made, so that it would exhibit the relative propor- 
tions of ships ; and that was very fittingly done by 
ascertaining in each the length of keel, the breadth of 
beam, and the depth of the hold. These three, when 
multiplied together, will give relative sizes of ships, if 
these ships he properly constructed. 

A law was thus obtained sufficiently just for taxation 
purposes, and you would think (if you are a superficial 
thinker) that this law could in no way exert any bad 
influence, except on those who had tlie tax to pay. 

Not so ; that simple, unsuspicious-looking law has 
cau'sjid more evil to the human race, more waste of time 
ejid loss of life, more consumption of human means, 


8HI1’-SHAPE. 


301 , 


than would buy up at the present moment all the sla 
very existing in the world ! 

How has it done this ? You will ask the question 
with surprise, I have no doubt. 

Simply, then, by its not only having retarded the 
progress of improvement in ship-building, — one of the 
most important arts in the possession of man, — but 
actually by its having thrown the art backward by hun- 
dreds of years. And thus came the evil to pass : The 
owner, — or he who was to be the owner, — of a new 
ship, seeing no means of avoiding the heavy tax, was 
desirous of reducing it as much as possible, — for dis- 
honesty of this kind is the certain and natural result of 
over-taxation. He goes to the ship-builder ; he orders 
him to build a vessel with such and such measurements 
of keel, beam, and depth of hold, — in other words, of 
such tonnage as will be required to pay a certain amount 
of tax. But he does not stop there ; he desires the build 
er, if possible, to make the vessel otherwise of such 
capacity that she will actually contain a third more of 
measured tonnage than that for which the tax is to be 
paid. This will lighten his tax upon the whole, and 
thus enable him to cheat the government that has put 
such a grievous impost upon his enterprise. 

Is it possible to build a ship of the kind he requires ? 
Quite so ; and the ship-builder knows he can accomplish 
it by swelling out the vessel at the bows, and bellying 
her out at the sides, and broadening her at the stern, 
and altogether making her of such a ridiculous shape, 
that she will move slowly, and become the grave of 
many a hapless mariner. The ship-builder not only 
knows that this can be done, but, complying with .the 


<510 


THE BOY TAB. 


wishes of the merchant-owner, he does it, and has done 
it for so long a period that he has grown to believe that 
this clumsy structure is the true shape of a ship, and 
would not, and could not, build any other. Nay, still 
more lamentable to state : this awkward form has 
so grown into his thoughts, and become part of his 
belief, that after the foolish law is repealed, it will lake 
long, long years to eradicate the deception from his 
mind. In fact, a new generation of ship-builders will 
have to be waited for, before ships will appear of a 
proper and convenient form. Fortunately, that new 
generation has already sprung up beyond the Atlantic, 
and by their aid we shall get out of this hundred years’ 
dilemma a little sooner. Even they have been half a 
century in arriving at what is yet far from perfection in 
the art ; but, unsaddled by the incubus of the tax, they 
have been looking at the fishes in the sea, and drawing 
a few ideas from the mechanism of nature ; and hence 
their present superiority. 

Now you will better understand what I mean, by the 
assertion that political science is the most impoHan 
study that can occupy the minds of mm. 


CHAPTER LVIL 


A VERT GRAND OBSTACLE. 

The good shij) Inca, then, was, like most others, buih 
to the merchants’ order. She was “ pigeon-breasted,’* 
and bulged out along the sides in such a fashion, that 
her hold was far wider than her beam ; and, looking up 
from the bottom of the hold, the sides appeared to curve 
towards each other, and converge over you like a roof. 
I knew that this was the shape of the Inca, — for it 
was then the universal shape of merchant vessels, and I 
was somewhat used to noticing ships of all kinds that 
came into our bay. 

I have said that, while trying through the slits of the 
top of the box with my knife, I felt something soft, 
which I took to be a bale of linen ; but I bad also 
noticed that it did not extend over the whole lid. On 
the contrary, there was about a foot at the end — that 
end contiguous to the ship’s timbers — where I could 
feel nothing. There were two slits, and I had run my 
blade through each without touching any substance, 
either hard or soft. I concluded, therefore, that there 
was nothing there, and that about a foot of space behind 
the bale of linen was empty. 

This was easily explained. The bale, standing on thf 


812 


THE BOY TAR. 


two laige cloth-cases, was at that height where the side 
of the ship began to curve inwards ; and as its top would 
lie in contact with the timbers higher up, the bottom 
angle would evidently be thrown out from them to the 
distance of a foot or so, thus leaving a three-cornered 
space quite empty, being only large enough to hold 
small' packages of goods. 

I reasoned, therefore, that if I were to proceed ver- 
tically upward, I should soon come in contact with the 
side timbers of the ship, — constantly curving inward 
as high as the deck itself, — and that I should meet 
with many obstacles, such as small packages, which I 
knew would be more difficult to deal with than large 
cases and boxes. For this reason, then, — but more 
for the others already assigned, — I came to the deter- 
mination to make my next move in a horizontal direc- 
tion. 

You will perhaps wonder that I should have taken so 
much pains to determine this point ; but when you reflect 
upon the time and labor which it required to cut through 
the side of a box, and then through the adjacent side 
of the next, — in short, to make a “ stage ” in advance, 
— when you reflect that a whole day might be so occu- 
pied, you will then perceive how important it was not to 
act rashly, but, if possible, to proceed in the right direc- 
tion. 

After all, I was not quite so long in choosing which 
way to go, as I have here been in narrating my reflec- 
tions about it. It only required a few minutes for me to 
make up my mind ; but I was so pleased at being once 
more on my legs, that I remained standing for nearly 
half an hour. 


A VERY GRAND OBSTACLE. 


313 


When sufficiently rested by this, I placed my arms 
inside the upper case; and then, drawing myself up 
prepared to go on with my work. 

I experienced a thrill of joy as I found myself in 
this upper box. I was now in the second tier of the 
packages, and more than six feet from the bottom of 
the hold. I was full three feet higher than I had yet 
been ; three feet nearer to the deck and the sky, — to 
my fellow-creatures, — to liberty ! 

On minutely examining the end of the case through 
which I intended to make an aperture, I was further 
joyed to find that this part of my work would not be 
difficult. One board was already loose, — the looseness 
having been caused by my tearing out the large piece 
at the bottom. Moreover, the blade of my knife told 
me that the object that was beyond did not stand close 
up to the case, but was several inches from it. In fact, 
I could only just reach it with the tip of the blade. 
This was a manifest advantage. I should be able, by a 
strong push or kick, to start the board outward, and 
then dispose of it on one side or the other between the 
two packages. 

And this I finally succeeded in doing. Booted for 
the purpose, I laid myself back, and then commenced 
beating a tattoo with my heels. 

In a short while the “ scranching ” sound announced 
that the hoops and nails were giving way; and after 
another kick or two the board flew out, and slipped 
down between the boxes quite out of my reach. 

I was not slow in thrusting my hands through the 
aperture thus made, and endeavoring to ascertain what 
sort of an article was tc come next ; but though I could 
14 


514 


THE BOY TAR. 


feel a broad surface of rough plank, I was unable to 
make out what sort of a package it was. 

I knocked out another piece from the end of the 
cloth-case, and then a third, — which was all there was 
of it, — so that I had now the whole end open before 
me. 

This gave me a fine opportunity to explore beyond, 
and I continued my examination. To my surprise, T 
found that the broad surface of rough deal extended in 
every direction beyond my reach. It rose vertically, 
like a wall, not only covering the whole end of the cloth- 
case, but stretching beyond it, upward and on both sides, 
— how far I could not tell, but so far that, after thrusting 
my arms up to the elbows, I could feel neither edge nor 
corner. 

This, then, was certainly a case of different shape 
and size from any I had yet encountered ; but what 
kind of goods it contained, I had not the slightest 
idea. Cloth it was not likely to be, else it would have 
resembled the other cases ; nor yet linen, — and there 
was some gratification in knowing it could not be 
this. 

In order to ascertain what it really was, I inserted 
my blade through the slits of the rough deal. I felt 
something like paper ; but I could perceive that this 
was only an outside covering, for immediately under it 
a hard substance resisted the point of my blade, — 
almost as hard and smooth as marble. By pressing the 
knife forcibly, however, I could feel that it was not 
stone, but wood, — some kind that was very hard, and 
that appeared to be polished finely cn the surface. 
When I struck suddenly against it, it gave oui an odd 


A VERY GRAND OBSTACLE. 


315 


echo, — a sort of ringing sound, or “ twang,” but for all 
this, I could not imagine what it was. 

There was no help for it but to cut into the case, and 
then perhaps I should become better acquainted with 
the contents. 

I followed a plan I had tried already. I selected one 
of the boards of which the great case was made, and 
with my knife cut it across the middle. It was nearly 
twelve inches in width, and the work occupied me for 
many long hours. My knife had become as “ dull as a 
beetle,” and this added to the difficulty of the task. 

The section was completed, at length; and, laying 
aside the knife, I contrived to draw one end of the cut 
plank outwards. The space between the two cases 
gave me room to move the board upward and down- 
ward, till at length the nails at the end were twisted 
out, and the board fell down along with the others. 

The second half was displaced in a similar manner ; 
and I had now made an opening in the great case, large 
enough to enable me to examine its contents. 

There were sheets of paper spread over the surface 
of something hard and smooth. These I dragged out- 
wards, and laid the surface bare ; and then I ran 
my fingers over it. I perceived that it was some kind 
of wood, but polished till it was as slippery as glass. It 
felt to the touch just like the surface of a mahogany 
table ; and I might have mistaken it for one, but on 
rapping it with my knuckles it gave forth that same 
ringing hollow sound I had already noticed. Striking it 
with still greater violence, I could hear a prolonged 
musical vibration, that reminded me of an ^olian harp. 

But I had now become aware of the nature of this 


/ 


81b THE BOY TAR. 

Luge object. It was a Piano-forte, I had seen one 
like it before. One used to stand in tlie corner of our 
little parlor, upon which my mother often made most 
beautiful music. Yes, the object whose broad smooth 
surface now barred my way was neither more nor less 
than a Piano, 


CHAPTER LVm 


TURNING THE PIANO. 

It was with unpleasant feelings I arrived at this 
knowledge. Beyond doubt, the piano would be a diffi- 
cult obstacle, if not a complete barrier, to my further 
progress in that direction. It was evidently one of the 
grandest of “ grand pianos,” — far larger than the one I 
remembered to have stood in my mother’s cottage par- 
lor. Its upper side, or table, was towards me, — ■ for it 
had been placed upon its edge ; and I could tell by the 
echo given back to my blows that this table was a piece 
of mahogany, of an inch or more in thickness. It ap- 
peared, moreover, to consist of one solid board, — for I 
could feel no crack or joining over its whole extent; 
and to get through this board, therefore, a hole would 
have to be made by sheer cutting and carving. 

With such a tool as I handled, to make a hole big 
enough to creep through, even had it been common 
deal, would have been a work of no ordinary magni- 
tude ; but through a solid plank of mahogany, doubly 
hardened by a process of staining and polishing, was a 
task that appalled me. 

Besides, even could I succeed in doing so, — even 
3ould I cut through the table-top, — which, though a 


318 


THE BOY TAR. 


sevore and tedious labor, would not have been impossi- 
'ble, — what then? There were all the inside works tc 
be got out. I knew little of the arrangement of the 
interior. I only remembered having observed a great 
many pieces of black and white ivory ; and \a5t num- 
bers of strong wdre strings. There were shelves, too, 
And pieces that ran lengthwise, and upright pieces, and 
then the pedals, — all of which would be very difficult 
to detach from their places. Beyond these again, there 
would be a bottom of hard mahogany, to say nothing of 
the case on the other side, and through these another 
aperture would have to be made to let me out. 

Still, other difficulties stared me in the face. Even 
should I succeed in getting the works loose, and drawing 
them out, and disposing of them behind me, would I 
then find room enough within the shell of the instru- 
ment to enable me to cut through its opposite side and 
also the case, and, still more, to make an entrance into 
whatever case or box lay beyond ? This was a doubt- 
ful point, — though not very doubtful. It was rather 
too certain that I could not do so. 

Still, I might work upwards once I had cleared out 
the shell ; but the clearing out the shell was of itself 
the most doubtful point ; for that I feared I should not 
be able to effect at all. 

On the whole, the difficulty of this enterprise quite 
dismayed me ; and the more 1 thought about it, the less 
inclination I felt to attempt it. After considering it in 
all its bearings, I abandoned the idea altogether ; and 
instead of trying to make a breach through the great 
wall of mahogany, I resolved upon “ turning ” it 

I was co^iderably chagrined at being forced into this 


TURNING THE PIANO. 


319 


fesolution, — the more so that I had lost half a day’s 
labor in hewing through the outside case ; and all this, 
as well as the opening of the end of the cloth-box, now 
counted for nothing. But it could not be helped. I 
had no time to spend in idle regrets ; and, like a be- 
sieging'general, I commenced a fresh reconnaissance of 
^he ground, in order to discover what would be my 
best route to outflank the fortress. 

I was still under the belief that it was a bale of linen 
that lay on the top, and this quite hindered me from 
thinking of going upward. My attention was turned, 
therefore, to the right and the left. 

I knew that by tunnelling either way, I should gain 
no advantage. It would not bring me an inch nearer 
the desired goal ; and even after I should have made a 
stage in either direction, I should still be only in the 
“ second tier.” This was discouraging enough, — mors 
loss of labor and time, — but I dreaded that horrid bale 
of linen I 

One advantage I had gained by knocking out the 
whole end of the cloth-case. I have already said there 
was a space of several inches between it and the great 
coffin that contained the piano. Into this space I could 
insert my arm beyond the elbow, and ascertain some* 
thing about the sort of goods that lay right and left cf 
me. 

I did so. I was able to perceive that on each side 
was a box or case, — both of which, as near as I could 
guess, were similar to that in which I was, — that is, 
both were cloth-cases. This would do well enough. I 
had now obtained such practice in breaking open these 
chests, and rifling them of their contents, that I consid- 


820 


THE BOY TAR. 


,7 


ered it a mere bagatelle ; and I should not have desired 
anything better than that the cargo had consisted en* 
tirely of those goods, for which the West of England 
has long been so famous. 

While groping along the sides of these cases, it oc- 
curred to me to raise my hand upward, and just ascer- 
tain how far the bale of linen projected over the empty 
cloth-case. To my astonishment it did not project at 
all I I say to my astonishment, — for those bales I had 
already examined were as near as possible of the same 
size as the cases of broadcloth ; and as this one wanted 
quite a foot of being “ flush ” with the inner end of the 
case, I concluded I should find it that much over at the 
other end. But it was not, — not an inch over ; and ' 
therefore, thought I, it must be a smaller package than 
the others. 

While making this reflection, something suggested 
that I should scrutinize the bale more closely. I did 
so, both with my fingers and the blade of my knife, and 
was now agreeably surprised to find that it was not a 
hale at all, but a wooden box. It was covered all over 
with a soft thick substance, — a piece of rush matting, 

— and this it was that had led to my mistake. 

The possibility of tunnelling in a vertical direction 
was now apparent. I could easily hew off the rush 
matting, and then deal with the box as I had done with 
the others. 

Of course, I thought no longer of taking the round- 
about way by the right or the left ; but at once changed 
-my intention, and determined to travel upward. 

I need hardly describe how I made my entry into 
this mat-covei-ed box. Suffice it to say that I began by 


TURNING THE PIANO. , 321 

cutting one of the lid hoards of the empty cloth -case, 
and then drawing it downwards till I pulled it out. The 
open space by the side of the ship proved an advantage 
to me while making the cross-section, — as it allowed 
me to ply my blade freely through the planks. 

Having succeeded with one board, I was enabled to 
detach anothei without any more hewing ; and this gave 
me enough space to work on the bottom of the covered 
case. 

By dint of cutting and tearing I soon got the rushes 
out of the way, and then the wood was, revealed to 
my touch ; and by this delicate sense I perceived that, 
like the others, it was a case of common deal. 

I only rested a moment before beginning my attack 
upon it. As it lay twelve inches from the timbers of 
the ship, one of its angles was quite within my reach ; 
and on running my hand along it, I could feel the heads 
of the nails, that did not appear to be either numerous 
or very firmly driven. This gave me satisfaction, and 
still more was I rejoiced to find that there was no hoop- 
ing upon it. I should, perhaps, be enabled to prize off 
one of the boards, and this would save me the long, 
wearisome task of cutting it crossways. 

At the moment this appeared a fortunate circum- 
stance, and I congratulated myself upon it. Alas ! it 
proved the cause of a sad misfortune, that in five min- 
utes had plunged me once more into the deepest 
misery. 

Half a dozen words will explain. 

I had inserted the blade of my knife under the board, 
and was trying if it felt loose. Not that 1 believed I 
could prize it off with this • but rather to ascertain what 
14 * 


resistance there was, in order to look out for some mor« 
proper lever. 

To my sorrow, I leant too heavily upon the piece of 
steel ; for a short, sharp crack, — startling me worse 
thfln a shot would have done, — announced that the 
^of broiesif 


CHAPTER LIX. 


THE BROKEN BLADE. 

Yes, — the blade was broken quite through and re- 
mained sticking between the pieces of wood. The haft 
came away in my hand ; and as I passed my thumb 
over the end of it, I could perceive that the blade had 
snapped off close to the end of the back-spring, — so 
that not even the tenth of an inch of it was left insthe 
handle. 

I cannot describe the chagrin which this incident 
caused me. I at once recognized it as a misfortune 
of the very gravest kind, — for without the knife what 
could I do ? 

Without it, I was, as might be said, unarmed and 
helpless. I could make no further progress with my 
tunnel, — I should have to abandon the enterprise so 
lately conceived, and upon which I had built such hopes 
of success ; in other words, I might now renounce my 
design of proceeding farther, and resign myself to the 
miserable fate that once more stared me in the fac^ 

There was something awful in this reaction ot my 
spirits. It was painful in the extreme. The very sud- 
denness of the change rendered the shock more acute. 
But the moment before, I was full of confidence,-— 


324 


THE BOY TAK. 


making fair progress in my enterprise, and t^ieered 
with partial success. This unexpected misfortune had 
interrupted all, and plunged me back again into the 
gloomy gulf of despair. 

For a long while I remained wavering and undecided. 
I could not make up my mind to do anything. What 
could I do ? I could not continue my work, — I had no 
tool to work with ! 

My mind seemed to wander. Several times I passed 
my thumb along the handle of my knife, till it rested 
upon the short stump of the broken blade, or rather 
upon the neck, for the blade was all gone. I did this in 
a sort of mechanical way, to assure myself that^it was 
really broken off, — for so sudden had been the misfor- 
tune, that I could yet hardly believe in its reality. In 
truth, it had quite bewildered my senses, and in this 
state they remained for several minutes. - 

When the first shock was over, my self-possession 
slowly and gradually returned. Assured at length of 
the sad reality, and knowing the worst, I began to reflect 
whether something might not still be done with the bro- 
ken weapon. 

The words of a great poet, which I had heard at 
school, came into my mind, — “ Men better do their bro- 
ken weapons use, than their bare hands ; ” and the sug- 
gestion that this wise saying afforded, I now took to 
myself. It occurred to me, then, to examine the blade. 
The haft I held in my hand, but the blade still re- 
mained in the angle of the box, where it had broken off. 

I drew it out, and passed, my finger over it. It was 
still entire, and as much of a blade as ever ; but, alas 1 
without the handle, what use could I make of it ? 


THE BROKEN BLADE. 


325 


I grasped it round the thick end, and made trial 
whether I could still cut with it. It was some satisfac- 
tion to find that I could, — a little. The blade was a 
good long one, and this was a fortunate circumstance. 
Bj wrapping a piece of rag around the thick end, 1 
might yet make it available ; though, of course, any 
cutting I might hereafter do with it, would be a slow 
and painful operation. 

The idea of setting the blade in the haft again was 
out of the question. It is true I entertained it at first, 
but I soon discovered a difficulty not to be got over ; 
and that was the removal of the back -spring. 

Could I only have got this out of the way, the haft 
would still have served for a handle. I could easily 
have inserted the broken end of the blade between the 
scales ; and as I had plenty of good string, I might have 
tied it firmly there. But I had nothing to draw the 
well-riveted nail, and the back-spring resisted all my 
efforts to detach it. 

The haft, therefore, was of no more use than an ordi- 
nary piece of stick, — r indeed, not so much, for just then 
it occurred to me that a piece of stick might serve my 
purpose better. Out of a proper piece, I might be able 
to make some sort of a handle that would serve to hold 
the blade, so that I might still cut with it. 

The encouragement which this idea gave me, once 
more roused my mind to new activity, and I set to 
thinking how I might make a new haft for the broken 
blade. 

Necessity sharpened my ingenuity ; and I was not 
long in conceiving my design, nor a great while either 
about the execution of it ; for in about an hour’s time J 


THE BOY TAR. 


89fi 

held in my hand a knife with a complete handle. It 
was but a rude one at best ; but I felt satisfied it would 
serve my purpose nearly as well as that which I had 
lost ; and this belief once more restored me to confi- 
dence and cheerfulness. 

The new haft I had made in the following fashion : 
Having procured a piece of wood from one of the thick 
wards, I first whittled it to the proper shape and size. 
This I was enabled to do with the blade, — which, 
although without a handle, served well enough for light 
work like that. I then contrived to make a cleft in the 
stick, to the depth of two inches from its end ; and into 
this cleft I inserted the broken end of the blade. To 
lap this tightly with a string, was my next idea ; but I 
perceived at once that this would not do. The string 
Nvould be stretched by the action of the blade, and the 
latter would- soon get loose. If the sharp edge only 
came against the twine, while the blade was being 
worked backwards and forwards, it would instantly 
sever it, and then the blade would pull out, perhaps 
drop down among the boxes, and so get lost. Such an 
accident would be fatal to my prospects ; and, if possi- 
ble, I must not risk it. 

What could I find that would fasten the blade more 
securely in the cleft ? If I could have obtained a yard 
or TWO of wire, it would have been just the thing, — but 
there was no wire near me. What ! thought I, no wire 
near me ? The piano ! the strings ! surely they are of 
wire ? 

Once more the piano became the object of my atten- 
tion ; and if I could at that moment have reached the 
inside of it, I should certainly have robbed it of one of 


THE BROKEN BLADE. 


327 


/ts strings. But, then, to get at the string? — that was 
a difficulty I had not thought of, but which the next 
moment came up before me. Of course, with my knife 
in its present condition, to cut my way into the piano 
would be a sheer impossibility, and I was foiced to 
abandon the idea. 

But in that instant I thought of another expedient, 
— I thought of the iron hooping, of which there was 
plenty within my reach. The very thing. A piece of 
this would serve my purpose equally as well as wire. 
Tt was thin and pliable, and one or two turns of it 
around the haft, by the neck of the blade, would hold 
the latter in its place admirably, and prevent it from 
budging either backwards or forwards. A string, lapped 
_ tightly over all, would keep the hoop from getting loose, 
and thus I should have a complete handle. 

No sooner thought of than done. The piece of hoop 
was at once searched for and found. It was neatly 
w'ound round the neck of the blade and haft ; and hav- 
ing been firmly tied with strong twine, I found myself 
once more in possession of a knife. The blade was of 
course much shorter than before, but I believed it would 
still be long enough for cutting through the thickest 
planks I should encounter ; and with this belief I felt 
satisfied. 

The different operations I have detailed must have 
occupied me for twenty hours at least. I was worn and 
wearied, and should have sought rest much sooner ; ])ut 
after the breaking of the blade, T could not think of 
resting. It would have been of no use attempting to 
sleep ; my misery would have kept me awake. 

The new knife, however, had restored my confidence ; 


328 


THE BOY TAR. 


and I could no longer resist the desire to take that re- 
pose — which, both in mind and body, 1 so much stood 
in need of. 

I need hardly add that hunger compelled me to resort 
once more to my miserable larder ; but strange as it 
may appear to you, — and as it does now to me, — 1 
felt no hardship in the kind of diet ; but, on the con- 
trary, ate my rat-supper with as much relish, as I should 
DOW do the choicest of dishes ! 


CHAPTER LX. 


A TRIANGULAR CHAMBER. 

I PASSED the night — I should rather say the houre 
of rest — in my old apartment, behind the water-butt 
Whether it was night or day, I no longer knew noi 
cared. On this occasion I slept well, and awoke re- 
freshed an-d strengthened. My new diet, no doubt, 
aided in producing this effect ; for, however repugnant 
it might be to a dainty palate, it served well enough for 
a famished stomach. 

I was not loath to make my breakfast upon it, which 
I did the moment after awaking; and that finished, I 
again crawled back through my “ galh^ry,” and entered 
the empty box, where I had already spent nearly the 
whole of a day and night. 

As I climbed into the same place, I could not help 
thinking how little way I had made during my last 
spell of twenty hours ; but some secret thought inspired 
me with the hope, that on this occasion I should be more 
fortunate. 

My intention was to continue the work which had 
been interrupted by the breaking of my knife. Before 
that unlucky accident befell me, T had noticed that the 


530 


THE BOY TAR. 


board was not very firmly nailed on. It could be started 
easily enough with a proper tool, — I fancied that even 
a good piece of stick would do it. 

I was careful not to make any more rash experiments 
with the blade of my knife. Now, more than ever, did 
I value this precious weapon ; for I was fully sensible 
that my life depended on its endurance. 

“ If I only had a piece of some hard wood ! ” thought 1, 

I remembered that in making an entrance into the 
brandy-cask, I had cut large pieces from the oaken 
staves. Perhaps one of these would do ? 

With the thought, I hurried back to the little cnam- 
her where I knew they were lying. 

After removing some pieces of cloth, I found them ; 
and having groped among the cuttings, I possessed 
myself of a piece that appeared as if it would suit my 
purpose. 

Getting back to the box, I even shaped out a little 
(irow-bar — by giving the stick a wedge-end with my 
knife ; and this thin end I inserted under the plank, 
and drove it inward as far as I could, by striking it 
with a heavy piece of board. 

It soon took hold ; and tlien grasping it by the end, 
and jerking it downwards, I had the gratification to 
hear the creaking of the nails as they started outward. 
My fingers now took the place of the little lever ; and 
the board came “ skreeking ” out of the bottom of the 
box. 

That contiguous to it was more easily detached ; and 
the two left me an aperture large enough to get out the 
contents, whatever they might be. 

They wore oblong packages, — shaped like pieces of 


A TRIANGULAR CHAMBER. 


331 


cloth or linen^ — but they felt lighter and more elastic 
than either. Better still, — they could be pulled out 
more easily, and without the necessity of being taken 
out of their envelopes. 

I had no curiosity to know what they were, — since 
I could tell they w^ere nothing eatable, — and, perhaps, 
I should not have known till this day, but that in draw- 
ing out one more tightly wedged than the rest, its wrap- 
per was torn off ; and as I passed my fingers between 
the folds of the soft light fabric, I guessed from their 
smooth silken surface that I was dealing with the finest 
of velvet. 

The box was soon emptied, and its contents carefully 
stowed in the most convenient space behind me ; and 
then, with a joyous heart, I mounted into the space I 
had cleared out. One more stage nearer to liberty ! 

I had been less than two hours in accomplishing this 
great advance. Such success was ominous of future 
good fortune. It was a day well begun ; and I resolved 
not to throw away a minute of time, since the fates ap- 
peared so propitious. 

After going down to refresh myself with a grand 
draught of water, I returned to the ci-devant depository 
of the velvet, and there entered upon a new series of 
explorations. As in the case of the cloth-box, I saw 
that the end of this, — which also abutted against the 
pianoforte, — could be easily kicked out ; and without 
waiting to ascertain farther, I set my heels against it, 
"End began playing my old tattoo. 

This time I did not finish it so soon. I was pinched 
for want of room, — the l elvet-box being much smaller 
than that w^hich contained the cloth, — but I effected 


. y 


332 THE BOY TAR. 

my purpose at length ; and out went the end-boards, one 
after another, dropping down into the interstices between 
the cases of goods. 

Doubling myself over upon my knees, I leant forward 
to make a new reconnaissance. I expected, or rather 
dreaded, to find the great wall-like piano-case shutting 
up the whole space I had opened. Certainly, the huge 
case vais there, — for I at once laid my hand upon it, 
— but I could scarce restrain an exclamation of joy, 
when I found that it extended scarce half-way across 
the opening ! What delighted me still farther was, that, 
in groping around its edge, I observed that opposite the 
opening in that part to which the piano-case did not 
extend, there was a large space entirely empty^ — a 
space almost big enough to have contained another case 
of velvet ! ~ 

This was a very joyful surprise, and I at once per- 
ceived the advantage thus thrown in my way. It was 
so much of my tunnel ready made to my hand. 

On thrusting my arm outside the end of the box and 
upward, I became acquainted with a new source of joy. 
I perceived that the empty space continued for ten or 
twelve inches higher than the top of the box, — in fact, 
to the top of the piano-case itself. It also opened about 
the same distance below where my knees rested. There 
I perceived that it ended in a sharp angle, — for I had 
already noticed that this little chamber was not of a 
square shape, as we say, but of the form of a triangle, 
with its apex pointing downwards. This was caused by 
the peculiar construction of the piano-case, which re- 
sembled a great parallelopipedon, with one comer 
pawed oil. It was standing upon its larger end, and 


A TRIANGULAR CHAMBER. 


333 


it was where this corner should have been that the 
place remained empty. 

In all likelihood the triangular shape of this space 
rendered it inconvenient for any package which there 
was among the merchandise, and hence was it unoccu- 
pied. 

So much the beu«r for me, rnougnt I, as I stretched 
forth my arms, and leant mv body over into it, with the 
design of giving it \ more tnorougn exploration 


OHAPTER LXT. 


4L MlLLINiCR'S BOX, 

I WAS not long about this business. I soon perceived 
that the back of the empty space was closed in by a 
large box, and a similar one blocked up the right side. 
The left was the diagonal edge of the case itself, about 
twenty inches or two feet in width. 

But I troubled myself very little either about back^ 
left, or right. It was the ceiling of the little chamber 
that had the greatest interest for me ; for it was in that 
direction I intended, if possible, to continue my tunnel. 

I knew that I was now far enough in the horizontal 
direction, — for the chief advantage I had gained by 
the discovery of the empty space was, that it carried 
me the thickness of the piano-case — about two feet, as 
I have said — in this course, besides the distance that 
was open, upwards. Neither forward, then, nor to the 
right or left, did I wish to go, unless forced to do so by 
an obstacle. Upward was the echo of my thoughts. 
Excelsior! excelsior! Two or three stages more,— 
pernaps less, if no obstacle intervened, — and I might 
be free. My heart beat joyfully as the prospect passed 
before my mind. 

1/ was not without a keen anxiety that I raised noy 


A milliner’s box. 


335 


hand to the ceiling of the empty chamber. My fingers 
trembled as they touched what I well knew to be can- 
vas, and involuntarily they recoiled from it. O, mercy ! 

— once more that hated fabric, — a bale of linen ! 

I was not so .sure of this, however. I remembered 
the mistake 1 had already made in this regard. I must 
examine farther. 

I closed my fist, and gave the bottom of the package 
a smart rap with my knuckles. Ha ! it was a pleasant 
sound that answered to the blow. It was not a bale of 
linen, then, but a box, — covered, like many others, 
with several folds of coarse cheap canvas. It could not 
be cloth, either, — for instead of the dull report which 
the cloth-boxes give out when struck, the one in ques- 
tion returned a hollow sound, — precisely that of one 
that was empty ! 

This appeared strange enough. It could not be 
empty, else why was it there? and yet if not empty, 
what did it contain ? 

I hammered upon it with the haft of my knife, — 
still the same hollow sound ! 

“ Good ! ” thought I. “ If empty, all the better ; but 
if not, surely there is something in it of a light nature, 

— something that may be easily got rid of. Good ! ” 

After making this reflection, I resolved to waste no 

more time in conjectures, but to satisfy myself of the 
contents of this new box, by making my way into it 
and in a trice I had ripped off the canvas that protected 
its bottom. 

I found the position in which I stood inconvenient. 
The triangular space, narrowing acutely towards tha 
bottom, hindered me from standing fairly on my feet 


THE BOY TAR. 


Sd6 

but I soon remedied this defect, by nlling the angle 
with some pieces of cloth and velvet that were near 
at hand. I then proceeded more comfortably with my^ 
work. 

I need not detail the mode in which I burrowed 
through the bottom of the box. It was just as with the 
others, and succeeded as w-ell. I had to make one cross- 
cut, — and in this my newdy-hafted blade behaved admi- 
rably ; after wdiich, I pulled out the divided pieces. 

I was not a little surprised when I arrived at the 
inside, and ascertained the contents of the box. It was 
some time before I could make them out by the “ feel,” 
but when I had succeeded in getting one separated from 
its fellows, and ran my fingers over its outline, I at 
length recognized what they were. They were bonnets ! 

Yes, ladies’ bonnets, and nothing but that, — all ap- . 
parently full “ trimmed,” and garnished with their feath- 
ers, flowers, and ribbons. 

Had I at that time possessed a more intimate knowl- 
edge of the costumes of the Peruvians, I should have 
been more surprised, perhaps, to find such an odd 
“item” in the list of their imports. I should have 
known that such a thing as a bonnet is never seen upon 
the beautiful head of a Peruvian lady. But I knew 
nothing of this then, and I was only surprised by the 
oddity of such an article occurring in the cargo of a 
great ship. 

The explanation was given me afterwards, thus : 
that there were English and French ladies living in 
many of the South American cities, — the wives and 
sisters of English and French merchants resident there, 
as well as of various representative officials, — and that 


■/ 


A MILLINERS BOX. 


337 


these, although so verj far distant from their homes, 
still obstinately persisted in following the fashions of 
London and Paris, — notwithstanding (it was added) 
the ridicule with which such an absurd headdress wus 
regarded by their fair sisters of Spanish America. 

For these soiourners, then, the box of bonnets had 
been intended. 

I am sorry to add that for that season their expecta- 
tions must have been disappointed. The bonnets could 
never have reached them, or, if they did, it must have 
been in such a state as to render them unfit for any pur- 
pose of adornment. Mine was an unmerciful hand; 
for, once inside that box, it never ceased from wreck 
and ruin till the whole of those beautiful “ ducks ” were 
crumpled up and stowed away in less than a tenth part 
of the valuable space they had hitherto occupied. 

No doubt many an imprecation was afterwards heaped 
on my devoted head; and the only apology I can make 
is to speak the simple truth, — that with me it was a 
matter of life or death, and the bonnets had to go. It 
was not likely that this would be satisfactory in the 
quarter where the bonnets were expected. I never 
heard whether or no. I only know that I was enabled 
afterwards, — but long afterwards, — to satisfy my own 
conscience about the matter, by paying the damcige 
claimed by the Transatlantic milliner. 

16 ^ 


CHAPTER LXn, 



HALF SUFFOCATED. 

Hav'^g disposed of the bonnets, my next stef wraa 
to climb up into the empty box ; and, if possible, get 
the lid, or part of it removed. But, first, I endeavored 
to ascertain what was on the top of it, and for thiy 
purpose I adopted a plan that had already served me 
more than once, — of feeling through the slits with the 
blade of my knife. Unfortunately, this was now shorter, 
and not so suitable for such a service, — but it was still 
long enough to reach through a piece of inch plank, and 
two inches beyond, and this would no doubt enable me 
to determine whether the next obstacle to be encoun- 
tered was a hard or a soft one. 

Once within the bonnet-box, I stuck my blade up 
through the lid. The package above was composed of 
something soft and yielding. I remembered that there 
was a canvas cover, but I drove the blade in to its hilt, 
and still it encountered nothing like wood, — nothing 
that resembled the boarding of a box. 

But I was equally certain that it was not linen, — 
for the blade penetrated as freely as it would have done 
into a mass of butter, — and this would r ot have been 
the case had it been a bale of linen. Knowing it could 


HALF SUFFOCATED. 


-338 


not be this, my mind was easy. I would rather have 
had to deal with anything else. 

I tried in several places, — in fact, all over the top, 
^ - and at every point I could bury my blade as far as 
the haft would let it go, with a very slight effort used to 
push it in. Certainly the package consisted of some 
substance I had not before encountered, but as to what 
it was I could form no idea. 

However, it did not feel as though it would present a 
serious obstacle to my progress ; and under this pleas- 
ant impression, I went to work to undermine it, by tak- 
ing a board out of the lid upon which it lay. 

This, of course, required me to go through the tedious 
and painful process of making a -cross-section with my 
knife, — a kind of work that absorbed more of my time, 
and caused me more labor, than all the rest put together. 
But it was absolutely necessary, for there was no other 
plan by which I could tunnel through the tops of the 
boxes. On each rested the heavy weight of the pack- 
ages above, and to start one of the planks, with this 
weight pressing down upon it, was impossible. It was 
only by cutting them across that they could be re- 
moved. 

The lid of the bonnet-box did not prove so difficult tc 
cut through. It was of thin deal, and in about a half 
or three quarters of an hour I had the middle piece of 
the three — for there were just three boards in it — 
cut into twain. The sections were easily bent down- 
wards, and removed. 

A patch of the canvas covering was then hacked off, 
and I could now get my hand upon the unknown pack- 
age that was resting on the top. I recognized the ob 


340 


THE BOY TAK. 


ject at once. I had been enough about mj uncle’s barn 
to know the feel of a sack. This, then, was a sack. 

It was full of something : of what ? — wheat, or bar 
ley, or oats ? No, it was not grain, — something softer 
and finer : was it a sack of meal ? 

I should soon ascertain that. My blade entered the 
6ack,^nd a slit was cut large enough to admit my fist 
I had no need to thrust my hand inside, for as I held it 
under the vent thus opened, I felt a soft, powdery sub- 
stance streaming downward, with which my palm was 
instantly filled ; and as my fingers closed upon it, I felt 
satisfied that I had got hold of a fistful of flour. My 
hand went straight to my lips, and a single taste of the 
precious dust confirmed my conjecture. It was a sack 
of flour. 

This was a joyous discovery. Here was food, and 
enough to last me for months ! No more danger of 
starvation, — no more rat diet. No. On flour and 
water I could live like a prince. What matter if it was 
raw? it was sweet, and palatable, and wholesome. 

“ Heaven be praised ! I am no longer in danger ! ” 
Some such exclamation escaped me, as I arrived at a 
full appreciation of the importance of my new discovery. 

I had now been at work for many hours, and once 
more needed rest. I was hungry, too, and could not 
^ resist the desire to make a grand meal on the new arti- 
cle of diet ; and, filling my pockets with the flour, I 
prepared to return to my old lair behind the water-butt. 
I took the precaution to stanch the wound I had -made 
in the flour-sack, by sticking a piece of loose canvas 
into the vent, and then I commenced my descent. The 
rats, bag and all, were chucked into the first convenient 


HALF SUFFOCATED. 


341 


eoiner that offered, with the hope that no necessity 
would ever require me to draw them out again ; and^ 
then, having mixed me a large quantity of flour paste, 
I made as hearty a meal upon it as if it had been the 
nicest hasty pudding that ever was cooked. 

A. few hours of good sleep again refreshed me ; and, 
on awaking, I ate another hasty meal of the paste, and 
after that commenced ascending my now greatly-ex- 
tended gallery. 

As I climbed through the second tier of boxes, I was 
surprised to feel on all sides of me a soft, powdery 
substance, resembling dust, scattered over the boards 
wherever they lay horizontally but on passing into 
the triangular space by the piano-case, I found the 
lower half of this cavity filled with the same dust, so 
that, as I stepped upon it, I sank up to the ankles. 
I perceived, moreover, that a shower of this soft 
substance was falling down upon my head and shoul* 
ders ; and, as I inadvertently turned my face up- 
wards, it came rushing into my mouth and eyes, 
causing me to sneeze and cough in the most violent 
manner. 

I felt for a moment as if I was in danger of being 
suffocated, and my first impulse was to beat a speedy 
retreat, and get back to the rear of the water-butt. 
But I had no need to go quite so far ; for on getting 
o'lt to the old biscuit-box, I perceived that there the 
dust no longer reached me. 

I was not long in arriving at an explanation of this 
singular phenomenon. It was the flour that was caus- 
ing such a “ Stour.” The movement of the ship had 
shaken out the 'anvas rag with which I had stopped the 


842 ' 


THE BOY TAR. 


rent, and the flour was escaping. No doubt this waa 
the cause of the wastage. 

The idea that all the flour would be lost, rushed into 
my mind, — and, as a consequence, that I should once 
more be forced to return to the rat diet. It would be 
necessary, therefore, to ascend to the sack, and stop the 
wastage at once. 

Notwithstanding some apprehensions I had on the 
score of suffocation, I perceived the necessity of action ; 
and closing both mouth and eyes, I scrambled as fast as 
I could towards the empty bonnet-box. 

I felt flour lodged on all sides as I went up, but I 
fancied it was no longer showering downwards. This 
was in reality the fact ; for on reaching the bonnet- 
box, I found that it had ceased to run out of the sack, 
and for the l^st of reasons, — it was now all out of it. 
The sack was empty ! 

Perhaps I should have regarded this as a greater 
misfortune, but I saw that the flour was not all lost. 
A good deal, no doubt, had filtered through the crev- 
ices, and got down to the bottom of the hold ; but a 
large quantity, — as much as I would be likely to need, 
— had lodged upon the pieces of cloth that I had placed 
in the bottom of the triangular cavity, and also in other 
places where I could get at it whenever I wanted. 

It mattered little, however ; for in another moment I 
had made a discovery that drove all thoughts of the 
flour out of my head, and rendered any calculation 
about my future provision, — either of food or water, — « 
a subject of the most trifling importance. 

I had stretched up my hand to ascertain if the sack 
was quite empty. It appeared so. Why, then, should 


HALF SUFFOCATED. 


345 


1 not pull it through the aperture, and get it out of the 
way ? No reason why I should not ; and I at once 
dragged it down, and flung it behind me. 

I then raised my head through the end of the box, 
into the space where the sack had lain. 

Merciful heavens ! What did I behold ? f 

light I light! 


CHAPTER LXIIL 


N 

LIGHT AND LIFE. 

Y ES, my eyes were once more cheered with heavenly 
light, producing within my heart a joy sudden and com- 
plete. I could not describe the happiness I felt. Every 
fear at once forsook me. I had no longer the slightest 
apprehension. I was saved ! 

The light I saw was but a very slender beam, — a 
mere ray, — that appeared to penetrate through a crack 
between two planks. It was above me, — not vertically 
above me, — but rather in a diagonal line, and appar- 
ently about eight or ten feet distant. 

I knew it could not be through the deck that the 
light came. There are no open spaces between the 
planks of a ship’s deck. It must be through the hatch- 
way ; and very likely the ^crack I saw was through the 
boarding of the hatch, at a place where the tarpauling 
might be off or torn. 

While gazing on this tiny beam, shining like a meteor 
above me, I thought it the loveliest object I had ever 
looked upon. No star in the blue sky had ever ap- 
peared to me half so brilliant or beautiful ; it was like 
the eye of some good angel smiling upon me, and bidding 
me welcome again to the world of life. 


LIGHT AND LIFE. 


345 


I did not remain long in my position within the bon- 
net-box. I believed myself near the end of my labor, 
and the accomplishment of my hopes, and had no incli- 
nation to pause upon the threshold of deliverance. The 
nearer to the goal, the more earnest had I become to 
reach it ; and therefore, without farther hesitation, I set 
about widening the aperture already made in the lid of 
the box. 

The fact of my seeing the light had convinced me of 
one important truth, and that was that I had reached the 
top of the cargo. Since it appeared in a diagonal direc- 
tion, there could be no boxes or other packages inter- 
vening between it and my eyes, and, therefore, the space 
was empty. This emptiness could only be above the 
cargo. 

But the matter was soon set at rest. It did not take 
me twenty minutes to widen a hole big enough to pass 
my body ; and, scarcely waiting to make this of suffi- 
cient size, I squeezed myself through, and wriggled out 
on to the top of the hox. 

I lifted ray arms over ray head, and extended ffiem 
all around me. Only behind could I perceive anything 
— and there I could feel boxes, and bales, and sacks 
piled up still higher, — but in front there was nothing 
but empty air. 

I remained for some moments seated on the lid of the 
box, where I had climbed out, with my legs hanging 
down outside of it. I was cautious not to step off, lest 
I might fall into some great cavity. I remained gazing 
upon the beautiful beacon that was now shining stih 
nearer to my face. 

Gra lually my eyes became accustomed to the light j 


546 


THE BOY TAR. 


and, though the chink admitted only a few slendei rays 
I began to perceive the forms of objects that were near, 
I soon made out that the empty space did not extend far. 
It was a little pit, of an irregular, circular form, — a sort 
of amphitheatre, shut in on all sides by the huge pack- 
ages of merchandise that were piled around it. It was, 
in fact, a space that had been left under the hatchway, 
after the cai'go had been all stowed ; and a number of 
loose barrels and bags that were strewed over it, ap* 
peared to contain provisions, — no doubt stores for 
the crew, — thus placed so that they could be readily 
reached when wanted. 

It was on one side of this little amphitheatre I had 
emerged from my gallery ; and no doubt I was just 
under the edge of the hatchway. It only needed to 
advance a pace or two, knock upon the boards over my 
head, and summon the crew to my assistance. 

But although a single blow, and a single cry, were 
all that were needed to procure my liberation, it was a 
long while before I could muster the resolution to strike 
that blow, or utter that cry ! 

I need not give you the reasons of my Reluctance and 
hesitation. Think only of what was behind me, — of 
the damage and ruin I had caused to the cargo, — a 
damage amounting perhaps to hundreds of pounds, — 
think of the impossibility of my being able to make the 
slightest restitution or payment, — think of this, and 
you will comprehend why I paused so long, seated upon 
the edge of the bonnet-box. An awful dread was upon 
me. I dreaded the denouement of this dark drama 
and no wonder I hesitated to bring it to its ending. 

How could I ever face the stern wrath of the cap« 


LIGHT AND LIFE. 


547 


tain? — the brutal anger of that savage mate? floTV 
could I endure their looks, — their words, theii oaths, 
and, likely enough, their blows ? Perhaps they would 
•pitch me into the sea ? 

A thrill of terror ran through my veins, as I dwelt on 
the probability of such a fate. A sudden change had 
passed over my spirits. But the moment before, that 
twinkling ray had filled my bosom with joy ; and now, 
as I sat and gazed noon it, my heart was throbbing with 
fear and dismay I 


CHAPTER LXIV. 


AN ASTONISHED CREW. 

1 TRIED to think of some way by which I might be 
enabled to make reparation for the loss ; but my reflec- 
tions were only foolish, as they were bitter. I owned 
nothing in the world that I knew of, — nothing but my 
old watch, — and that — ha ! ha ! ha ! — would scarce 
have paid for the box of crackers ! 

Yes, — there was something else that belonged to 
me, — and does still (for I have kept it till this hour), 

— something which I esteemed far more than the watch, 

— ay, far more than I would a thousand watches ; but 
that something, although so highly prized by me, would 
not have been valued at a single sixpence. You guess 
o£^ what I am speaking ? You guess, and rightly, that 
I mean that dear old knife ! 

Of course, my uncle would do nothing in the matter. 
He had no interest in me farther than to give me a 
home, and that was a thing of choice, rather than re- 
sponsibility. He was in no way bound to make good 
my damages ; and, indeed, I did not permit myself for 
a moment to entertain the idea. 

There was but one thought that held out to me the 
slightest hope, — one course, that appeared to be tolera- 


AN ASTONISHED CREW. 


349 


bly rational. It was this : I could bind myself to the 
captain for a long period. 1 could toil for him as a 
boy-sailor, — a cabin-boy, — a servant, — anything that 
would enable me to work off my debt.^ ' 

If he would only accept me for this purpose (and 
what else could he now do, — unless, indeed, he really 
did toss me overboard ?) then all might yet be right. 

The thought cheered me ; and I resolved, as soon aa 
I should reach the captain’s presence, to make the pro- 
posal. 

Just at that moment I heard a loud stamping noise 
above me. It was a continued series of thumps, that 
resembled the heavy footsteps of men passing backward 
and forward over the decks. They were on both sides 
of the hatchway, and all around it, upon the deck. 

Then I heard voices, — human voices. Oh, how 
pleasant to my ears ! First, I heard shouts and short 
speeches, and then all of them mingling together in a 
chant or chorus. Rude it may have been, but during 
all my life never heard I sounds that appeared to me so 
musical or harmonious as that work-song of the sailors. 

It inspired me with confidence and boldness. I could 
endure my captivity no longer ; and the instant the 
chorus ended, I sprang forward under the hatch, and 
with the wooden handle of my knife knocked loudly 
upon the planks overhead. 

I listened. My knocking had been heard. There 
was a parley among the voices above, and I could dis- 
tinguish exclamations of surprise ; but although tho 
talking continued, and even a greater number of voices 
appeared to take part in it, no attempt was made to take 
up tlie batch. 


350 


THE BOY TAR. 


I repeated my knocking louder than before; and 
added to it the summons of my voice ; but I could 
myself perceive that my voice was tiny and feeble as 
that of an infant, and I doubted whether it could have 
been heard. 

Again I listened to a volley of loud exclamations that 
betokened surprise ; and from the multitude of voices I 
could guess that the whole crew was around the hatch- 
way. 

I knocked a third time, to make sure; and then 1 
stood a little to one side, — in anxious and silent expec- 
tation. 

Presently I heard something rubbing over the hatches. 
It was the tarpauling being removed ; and, as soon as this 
covering was taken off, I perceived that light shot in 
through several chinks at the joining of the planks. 

But the next moment the sky suddenly opened above 
me ; and the flood of light that poured down upon my 
face, rendered me quite blind. It did more, — it caused 
me to faint and fall backward against the boxes. I did 
not lose consciousness all at once, but swooned gradually 
away under a feeling of .strange bewilderment. 

Just as the hatch was lifted upwards, I noticed a ring 
of rough heads, — human heads and faces, — above the 
edge, all around the great opening, and I observed that 
all of them were drawn suddenly back with an expres- 
sion of extreme terror. I heai’d cries and exclamations 
that betokened the same ; but the shouts gradually died 
upon my ears, and the light dimmed and darkened in 
my eyes, as I lapsed into a state of unconsciousness, as 
complete as if I had been dead. 

Of course, I had only swooned ; and was insensible 


AN ASTONISHED CKEW. 


^51 


to what was passing around me. I did not see the 
rough heads as they reappeared over the edge of the 
hatch frame, and again reconnoitre me with looks of 
ala^m. I did not see that one of them at length took 
courage, and leaped down upon the top of the cargo, 
followed by another and then another, until several stood 
bending over me, — uttering a volley of conjectures and 
exclamatory phrases. I did not feel them as they ten- 
derly raised me in their arms, and kindly felt my pulse, 
and placed their huge rough hands over my heart to see 
whether it was still beating wdth life, — no more did I 
feel the big sailor who lifted me up against his breast 
and held me there, and then, after a short ladder had 
been obtained and placed in the hatchway, carried me 
up out of the hold and laid me carefully on the quarter- 
deck : I heard nothing, I saw nothing, I felt no&'ing, till 
a shock, as if of cold water dashed in my fa(M, once 
more aroused me from my trance, and told me that 1 
still lived. 


CHAPTER LXV. 


THE DENOUEMENT. 

Whis,!* I came to mj senses again, I saw that I was 
Ijing up</£S the deck. A crowd was gathered around, 
and look ui what direction I might, my eyes rested upon 
faces. Tney were rude faces, but I noticed no unkindly 
expression in any one of them. On the contrary, I per- 
ceived looks of pity, and heard words of sympathy. 

They were the sailors, — the whole crew was around 
me. One was bending over my face, pouring water into 
my lips, and cooling my temples with a wet cloth. I 
knew this man at the first glance. It was Waters, — 
he who had carried me ashore, and presented me with 
my precious knife. Little knowledge could he have at 
the time of the great service it was to do, — and had 
since done, — me. 

“ Waters,” said I, “ do you remember me ? ” 

He started at my words, uttering, as he did so, a 
sailor’s exclamation of surprise. 

“ Shiver my timbers ! ” was the phrase. “ Shiver my 
timbers ! if ’taint the little marlin-spike as boarded us 
a-port ! ” 

“ Him as wanted to go a seelorin ? ” cried several in 
a breath. 

“ The same, for sartin.” 


THE DENOUEMENT. 


353 


Yes,” I answered, “ it is, — I am the same.” 

Another volley of ejaculations followed, and then 
there was a momentary silence. 

“ Where is the captain ? ” I asked. ‘‘ Waters, will 
you take me to the captain ? ” 

“ You wish to see the capten ? — he’s here, my lad,” 
answered the big sailor, in a kind tone ; and then, stretch- 
ing out his arm, he made an opening in the ring that 
encircled me. 

I glanced through this opening. I saw the same well- 
dressed man, whom I had before recognized as the cap- 
tain. He was only a few yards oflP, standing in frc-nt of 
the door of his cabin. I looked in his face. The ex- 
pression was stern, but yet it did not awe me. I fancied 
it was a look that would relent. 

I hesitated for a moment what course to pursue, and 
then, summoning all my energy, I rose to my feet, tot- 
tered forward, and knelt down before him. 

“ Oh sir ! ” I cried, “ you can never forgive me ! ” 

TJjat, or something like it, I said. They were all the 
words I could utter. 

I no longer looked him in the face. With my eyes 
fixed upon the deck, I awaited his reply. 

“ Come, my lad ! rise up ! ” said a voice, in a tone 
of kindness ; “ rise up, and come with me into the 
cabin.” 

A hand was placed upon mine, I was raised to my 
feet, and led away. He who walked by my side, and 
, conducted me as I tottered along, was the captain him- 
self ! This did not look like giving me to the sharks. 
Was it possible that the ending should be of this merci* 
fill complexion ? 


THE BOY TAR. 


Sd4 

As I passed into the cabin, I beheld ray shadow in a 
mirror. I should not have known rayself. My whole 
body was as white as if it had been liraewashed ; I nt I 
reraerabered the flour. My face alone was to be seen, 
and that was almost as white as the rest, — white, and 
wan, and bony as that of a skeleton ! I saw that suffer- 
ing and meagre fare had made sad havcc with my 
flesh. 

The captain seated me on a sofa, and, having sum- 
moned his steward, ordered him to fill me out a glass 
of port wine. He uttered not a word till I had drank 
it ; and then, turning to me, with a look in which I could 
read nothing of sternness, he said, — 

“ Now, my lad, — tell me all about it ! ** 

It was a long story, but I told it from first to last. I 
concealed nothing, — neither of the motives that had led 
me to run away from my home, nor yet any item of the 
vast damage I had done to the cargo. Tliis, however, 
was already well known to him, — as half the crew had 
long since visited my lair behind the water-butt, and 
ascertained everything. 

When I had gone through every circumstance, I 
wound up w'ith the proposal I had resolved to make to 
him ; and then, with an anxious heart, I awaited hw 
response. My anxiety was soon at an end. 

“ Brave lad ! ” he exclaimed, rising to his feet, and 
going towards the door, “ you wish to be a sailor ? You 
deserve to be a sailor ; and by the memory of your 
noble father, — whom I chanced to know, — you zheJX 
be a sailor ! ” 

“ Here, Waters ! ” he continued, calling to the big 
tar, who was waiting outside, take this youngster, have 


THE DENOUEMENT. 


355 


him fresh rigged ; and, as soon as he is strong 3nough, 
see that he be properly taught the ropes.” 

And Waters did see that I was taught the ropes, — > 
avery one of them, and in the proper manner. Fo^ 
many years afterwards he was my shipmate, under that 
same kind-hearted captain, until I rose from the condi- 
tion of a mere “ boy tar,” and was rated upon the Incest 
books as an “ able seaman.” 

But my promotion did not end there. Excelsior ” 
was my motto ; and, assisted by the generous captain, I 
. soon after became a third mate, and afterwards a second 
mate, and, still later, a first mate, and, last of all, a cap 
tain ! 

In course of time, too, — still better than all, — I be- 
came captain of my own ship. 

That was the crowning ambition of my life, — for 
then I was free to go and come as I pleased, and plough 
the great ocean in any direction, and trade with v/hat- 
ever part of the world I might think proper. 

One of my very first and most successful voyages, — 
I mean in my own ship, — was to Peru ; and I remem 
ber well that I carried out a box of bonnets for the 
English and French ladies resiuent at Callao and Lima. 
But these arrived safe, and no doubt disgusted the eyes 
of the fair Creoles, who were expected to admire them 1 

The crumpled bonnets had been long ago paid for, — 
so, too, the spilt brandy and the damage done to the 
cloth and velvet. After all, it did not amount to such a 
vast sum ; and the owners, who ivere all generous men, 
taking the circumstances into account, dealt leniently 
with the captain, who. in his turn, made the terms easi 


566 


THE BOY TAR. 


for me. In a few years I had settled for all, or, as we 
say in sailor language, “ squared the yards.” 

And now, my young friends ! I have only to add, 
that having sailed the seas for many long years, and by 
careful mercantile speculations, and a fair economy, hav 
ing acquired sufficient means to keep me for the re- 
mainder of my days, I began to grow tired of wave and 
storm, and to long for a calmer and quieter life upon 
land. This feeling grew upon me, every year becom- 
ing stronger and stronger ; till at last, unable to resist it 
any longer, I resolved to yield to its influence, and an- 
chor myself somewhere upon shore. 

For this purpose, then, I sold off my ship and sea 
stores, and returned once more to this pretty village, 
where I have already told you I was born, and where 1 
have also made known to you, that it is my intention to 
die ! 

And now, good-day ! and God bless you all I 




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